"Pookie, calm down. I was just being friendly."
"That's the problem, Maureen! You're always being friendly!"
"So you'd rather me walking around screaming, 'Screw the world!'?"
"No! I just don't want you to be friendly the way that you define friendly. That's how we got together remember—you were being friendly. And you were dating Mark, Maureen!"
The curly-haired diva sauntered up to her girlfriend and pulled the irate woman to her by her hips. "But I didn't love Mark."
Joanne stared into her eyes. "You don't love me."
"Pookie!"
Joanne pushed her back. "I can't do this Maureen. I just can't."
Before her girlfriend could argue, Joanne stormed out. She just couldn't handle Maureen anymore. She was always flirting with someone, always acting afraid of commitment. Joanne was too tired of fighting Maureen to love her.
She didn't care that she was walking down a busy street crying. It wasn't like it mattered if anyone saw her. She was in New York—no one cared.
"Honey?"
She knew exactly whose voice that was. It has completely slipped her mind that Angel often drummed down the street from her apartment.
"Hi," Joanne mumbled, coming to a stop. She tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, but Angel's hands circled hers first.
"You two get into it again?" He asked sweetly. She nodded.
"You know, I think that I know someone who can help. Have you got any plans for the rest of the day?"
"No, not really."
"Good." Angel still clutched one of Joanne's hands, and used his other to grab his bag and pickle tub. "We'll have to stop by my apartment, but we have plenty of time."
"Plenty of time to get where?"
"You'll just have to see when we get there."
Joanne had to give Angel props—he was excellent at making small talk. Especially when conversing with an exceptionally unenthusiastic conversationalist such as herself.
When they arrived at the small residence, Angel slid his supplies in the corner and glanced at the clock. "Not enough time to change. Oh well, probably for the best."
"Why?"
"You'll see," he remarked in a sing-song voice.
Joanne hadn't spent much time on the subway in her lifetime, and it surprised her when, after their walk from his place, she boarded it with Angel, who still wouldn't tell her of their destination.
"We're going to see the person who knows Maureen the best."
"Her parents?"
"Of course not. Though I suppose that my changing outfits would have been bad in that case too, huh?"
0----0
Joanne didn't quite understand until they got off. When she saw where the rather smelly transportation method had led them to, however, that infernal light bulb above her head flickered on rather brightly. "Doesn't--?"
"Yep."
"Well, I don't want to interrupt any of his classes."
"Honey, you're fine. Lunch break starts in a few minutes. Come on, I'll take you there." Angel still clutched her hand—he knew that she wasn't so keen about being here.
He did have a point though, and Joanne knew it. Collins was Maureen's best friend, which meant that he had been dealing with her tantrums for years—far longer than she herself had. But still, she had never really been all that close to Collins. Angel was just trying to help, she knew, but she didn't quite make acquaintances as easily as the young Latino.
"Angel, I don't know…"
"Don't be shy, darling, he doesn't bite."
Joanne could have made a wry comment, she really could have, but she had more self-preservation than that—she didn't want to get Angel worked up. And besides—that was the kind of thing that one of the guys, mainly Collins, would have said. "See, there's his classroom." Angel rapped on the door.
"Come in."
The professor's lover skipped through the door, towing Joanne, who lacked the kind of coordination to skip and therefore was stumbling, behind her.
"Honey, I need some help."
"With what?" The man's brown eyes surveyed the strange sight before him.
"Actually, she needs some help. You know Maureen really well, and so I thought that maybe you could help poor Joanne deal with her."
He shrugged. "Sure. Mo's a pistol."
"Alrighty then. I'm going to go and leave you two to your 'Maureen Talk'." He stepped forward to kiss his man on the cheek, and did the same to the woman behind him. Angel skipped backwards, and Joanne marveled at his adroitness, out of the door.
A few seconds passed.
"Well, this is awkward."
Collins' laughed. "He's just trying to help. Angel doesn't believe in awkward."
"I know."
The professor pointed at a chair. "You can sit."
She did. Soon, after a few strands of conversation, they were talking like they had been doing it their whole lives. Collins started an interesting story.
"One time, in high school, Maureen decided that she wanted to be Homecoming Queen."
"She never mentioned that."
"She was really just doing to it prove that she could belch the loudest and look the prettiest at the same time. See, Maureen is used to getting everything she wants. Her mother's a bit of a pushover, and Mo knows it. Everyone always falls at her feet, and all she has to do is make a show of things."
"I've noticed," Joanne commented dryly.
"The point is," he continued with a chuckle, "you can't get too worked up over it. Just let her kick and scream for a while."
"That's not exactly the problem though. She's always flirting with everything that moves, and being skittish about commitment."
"There's a good reason for that too."
"Like what?"
"Has she ever mentioned her grandmother?"
"Never."
"They were really close when Maureen was younger. But she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and it killed Maureen. Because soon her grandmother forgot all about her. It broke her heart. And ever since then, she's been pushing people's buttons, acting a little more on the eccentric side. She never wants to be forgotten again."
"That still doesn't explain—"
"I'm gettin there. See, she also likes to bring the people she loves down. When her grandmother stopped remembering her name, Maureen began to get snappy with her, and call her names. If I know Mo, then she's doing this to get a reaction from you. She wants to know that you love her. And she's afraid that once you realize how scared, how insecure, she is then you'll leave her."
"But I won't."
"Don't tell me." He smiled apologetically as people began to file through the door. "I have a class now. Did I help?"
Joanne nodded. "You really did. Thank you."
0----0
"Pookie, are you alright? The way you stormed out of here earlier, I was worried, so I went out looking, but I couldn't find you."
"I'm fine, and I'm sorry. That thing earlier—can we forget about it?"
"Of course. It will be our forgotten little secret." Maureen pressed her lips to Joanne's.
"Maureen?"
"Yes, Pookie?"
"What about you? All you alright?"
The girl looked surprised. "Of course. When aren't I?"
Joanne shook her head. "Right. Never mind—lets just go to bed. It's been a long day."
That's the thing about Maureen, Joanne decided. Inside she's so scared and so unconfident, but she holds her head up. She never wants anyone to know that she's afraid. Loving her isn't really about loving her at all. It's all about knowing what she hides. It's about knowing how to coax out the demons inside.
It's all about knowing her.
0----0
My first MoJo, though it really didn't have a lot of them in it. Of course I had to drag Angel in—what else would you expect from me?
I do not own RENT. And that saddens me. Greatly.
As I said, this is my first attempt at the two of them, so feedback via reviews would be appreciated.