A Day in the Life of a Seahorse

Disclaimer: I own a RENT wristband, and an autographed tour cast Playbill. That's it. Nothing else!

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"I'm expected to wear that?!" Mark's voice held a note of surprise. "Maureen!" He watched the pregnant woman shuffle forward. "That'll kill me!" Maureen shook her head, placing the box on the couch.

"You accused me of having it easy!" she exclaimed, motioning for Joanne to open the box. Mark watched in horror as Joanne pulled it out. "You are going to go through what I go through!"

I should have known better! He thought, holding out his arms. Reluctantly, he allowed Joanne to strap on the empathy belly. As she finished closing it, he lurched forward, unable to control his center of gravity.

"Here," Maureen thrust a shirt at him. "You have to wear it all day, and you'll need a shirt" Mark glanced down at the shirt, his facing contorting into horror. "It was the only one big enough to accommodate that. Joanne and I were up late trying to figure it out"

"Maureen!" he whined, slipping it on. "It says Knocked Up!" He groaned. "I can't breathe, and something moved!" He took a cautious step, before tumbling onto the couch. "I can't move!" He groaned. "I need to pee"

"You big baby," Maureen murmured, proudly waddling off. "See you tonight! Oh, and if it comes off, your godchild will be named the names you hate the most. Elisabeth Irene or John Henry," Mark nodded, wondering if he could really show his face around the neighborhood.

Each step he took was slow and deliberate. He was afraid if he moved faster, he would land on his face. He didn't really understand how Maureen did this on a day-to-day basis. How did she manage to waddle without falling? Her center of gravity had to be off.

"Mark!" Mimi exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me?" She smirked, lightly running her hand over his bump. "I could have included you in Maureen's Baby Shower," Mark rolled his eyes. Then wanting to act childish, he stuck his tongue out. "It's alright. I know the baby screws with your hormones," As she moved toward her apartment, he quietly flipped her off. "I saw that!"

Mark was supposed to meet Collins for lunch at the Life Café. He had set the date up weeks ago, when he knew his old friend was supposed to be back in town. Now he wasn't sure that he wanted to face the man. He didn't want to get laughed at anymore than was necessary.

As he walked up the street, he couldn't help but notice people were staring at him. Was a pregnant man that hard to believe? The more people stared, the more embarrassed he grew. Finally, he met every gaze by just muttering that he insulted his pregnant ex girlfriend.

"Mark, look at you!" Collins exclaimed, hugging Mark, or rather trying to. Hugging the man was quite difficult. His belly seemingly got in the way. "Wish I had known. I would have brought two baby gifts," Mark scowled. "Let me guess-insulted Maureen?"

"How'd you know?" he grumbled, sitting down and pushing back. His bump made it impossible for him to get close to the table. Quietly, he ran his hand over his fake belly. "It kicked. Socrates kicked,"

"A- She threatened me for teasing her, and B- who or what is Socrates?" Collins asked, looking slightly amused. Mark sighed, knowing Collins would be even more amused soon enough.

"I named the lead ball in here," he admitted sheepishly. "I thought it would make this experience easier if I thought of the ball as real. I named it Socrates," Collins stifled a laugh. "I get to take it off tonight at the baby shower," Collins smirked.

"I can't believe we're having her baby shower on Christmas Eve." Collins remarked. "Did Mimi intentionally plan it? What do you get if you manage to leave that thing on for the day?"

"Yes, she did. No one ever does anything for Christmas Eve, and well, you have to admit the day has meaning," Mark said. He leaned back. "I really have respect for her," He sighed. "If I win, the baby will be named some form of Angel for a girl and James for a boy,"

"Some form of Angel?" Collins muttered, baffled. "Why?"

"Because of your angel." He murmured, leaning back. "Collins, can you help me to the bathroom?" Much to his embarrassment, he had quickly figured out it was impossible to get up on his own.

"Maureen's less helpless than you are," Collins remarked, hoisting the other man to his feet. "Mark, you make an ugly pregnant chick," Mark softly snarled, lightly swatting Collins in the back of the head.

He felt like an elephant, as he waddled to the restroom. Each step he took seemed to shake the floor. How could Maureen handle this?

"You look uncomfortable," Collins murmured, offering Mark his arm. "At least you got off easy. She's been bitchy and miserable for the last month and a half," Mark nodded. "I think she was also tormenting you," He pointed to the shirt.

Mark managed as well as he could through lunch. The only thing he had discovered was that he could only manage to eat very little since the lead ball dug into his stomach.

"I'm walking back to the loft with you," Collins murmured, offering his arm. "With your luck, you'll fall into a snowdrift, blend in and freeze to death," Mark flipped around, jammed his hand on his hip and scowled.

"I can't believe you just said that!" he murmured. "I'm fat, and slow! What gives you the nerve to call me pale?" Collins backed away, his eyes wide.

"Dude, you're acting like a crazed pregnant chick," he blurted out. "I think Maureen has successfully taught you a lesson in sensitivity," He sighed. "Come on. We have a baby shower to attend" Mark nodded, drying his eyes on the corner of his sleeve.

"About ti-Mark, who's the daddy?" Roger asked, meeting them outside the loft. "I just wish you had told me!" Mark scowled, releasing Collins' arm. Collins moved away, pulling Roger to the side. All Mark could hear was cranky, pregnant, and watch what you say.

"I can hear you!" he exclaimed. "Don't think you can talk about how cranky I am because I'm pregnant!" Roger flipped around.

"Mark, snap out of it!" he exclaimed. "You're not pregnant! This is just a creepy sensitivity activity that Maureen is putting you through," He sighed. "Speaking of Maureen, she's at the hospital,"

"Why?" Mark asked, resting his hand in the small of his back. "Is everything okay with the baby?" Roger sighed.

"She was having contractions," he said. "The doctor wanted her to come in, just to be checked out, and they're keeping her over night," Mark nodded. "Joanne gave me money for a cab. Let's go,"

As they rode in the cab, Mark couldn't help but notice the cab driver was staring at him. Rolling his eyes, he took a deep breath.

"I insulted a pregnant chick," he said. "Who might be having her baby seven weeks early" He sighed, leaning back. "Is she alright?"

"Mainly just scared," Roger replied. "Maybe the sight of you waddling in will cheer her up," Mark watched as Collins lightly smacked him in the back of the head.
"Sorry, Mark," Roger gently patted his belly.

"Don't touch me," he snapped. "I have to pee again. My back hurts. I can barely breathe," He crossed his arms over his chest. " I don't think I can last much longer," He sighed. "I am whiny. Aren't I?"

"Yes, but you're allowed to be," Roger said.

As soon as Collins let him out of the cab, Mark was waddling off. He knew he would need extra time to make it up to Maureen. However, each step he took was difficult.

"Come on," Collins muttered, offering him his arm. "You're never going to get there at this rate," Mark sighed, knowing Collins was probably right.

By the time he got to the room, he was out of breath, sweating profusely and really had to pee. How did Maureen manage this? This was impossible.

"Ma'am?" a nurse called. Mark flipped around to the best of his ability. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sir. We're just not used to a pregnant man around here," Mark shrugged, vanishing into Maureen's room.

"Oh my God, Mark!" Maureen exclaimed, lifting herself up from the hospital bed. "You look miserable!" Mark sighed, plopping down in the bed. "Let's make a deal," He glanced up. "We just found out what it is. Tell me your name for a little girl. Then, we'll judge who won."

"A little girl?" Mark asked. Maureen nodded. He grinned. "I was think Gabriel Ange, the French word for Angel," Maureen glanced to Joanne.

"You win," she said. "Gabe is a Gabe, definitely not an Elisabeth," With Collins' help, he pulled the shirt over his head. "What did you learn?"

"Not to insult you when you're pregnant.

Fin