Disclaimer: All Jonathan's.
Maureen needed an escape. This wasn't an overnight realization, this was actually something she had been thinking about for awhile. For once, she thought something through. It was all a question of how she would escape.
She sat there on the bed, the blankets still covering her legs, just thinking. Maureen glanced down at the figure beside her. Mark was on his back, knees up in the air covered by the silhouette of the thin white sheet. His spiky blond hair was messy, a few piece covering his closed eyes. He looked so innocent when he was asleep, wearing one of Roger's old band shirts and checkered boxers. Maureen smiled down at him. In a way, she almost pitied him. He didn't know what he was getting himself into when he asked her to dinner that one Thursday two years ago. She was just all too happy that someone asked her out because he thought her show was good, not because her ass looked good in those jeans. The change was nice, someone loving her for her. But in a way, she never really wanted that.
She slid out from underneath the blanket, her bare feet making contact with the cold wood floor. Slipping out of the loose pajama pants, she pulled on fleecy black sweatpants and exchanged her t-shirt for a tight black tank top with a bright yellow star in the middle. Tying her hair up and donning sneakers, she grabbed her purse before sneaking out of the loft.
Thumbing through her wallet, she figured she had enough money to catch a train down to Jersey and a quick breakfast. It was a long walk to the train station at eight in the morning. Once there, she grabbed herself a coffee and hash brown from McDonalds and a train ticket to Atlantic City. Last week's performance had been good pay. Good pay as far as fifty dollars more than the usual. She hadn't let that slip to Mark, Collins, or Roger. Mark would mention that something wasn't quite right with his camera. Collins would comment on the rent being due. Roger would say that he needed new guitar strings, then go out and buy smack so he could shoot up with April later.
The hour-long train ride was boring. She forgot to get a magazine for the ride, so she was stuck entertaining the little old woman beside her while warding off stares from the creepy middle-aged man across the aisle. She was the first person off the train when it stopped at the terminal.
Adjusting her shirt and ponytail, Maureen sauntered out of the train station and onto the streets of Atlantic City. A few teenagers let out whistles as she walked by. A part of her smiled inside, her inner attention whore letting itself out. The rest of her missed Mark. Every time that would happen around Mark, he would pull her closer and reassure her that she had talent to go along with her beauty.
She reached the beach, kicking her shoes off and hiding them in the dunes. Maureen stood at the top of the beach, taking in the sight and smell of the ocean. Scrunching her toes, she felt the sand between her toes and smiled. She remembered coming here as a little girl with her parents and little brother. She would run through the surf and build castles in the sand. She could see a little girl piling sand into little circles in the distance. Maureen walked closer to the water, sitting down right where the sand started getting colder. She placed her hands on the cold surface, tightening her fists and allowing the sand to run through her fingers. It felt good. She let her eyes wander back to the little girl, to the constant waves, and back to her hands. Maureen caught her fingers absentmindedly drawing circles in the sand. She kept staring and her finger kept going around, a perfect clockwise motion.
She sighed. Circles really defined her life. Everything seemed to be going in a circle: her work, her relationship, her life.
Work went in a cycle, a circle. She would get a job waiting tables, get a job singing somewhere, then get a full on show. Just when she quit the shitty job, the performance would fall through and she would be left on her ass again with just Mark telling her he would take care of her.
Mark was a circle too: a whirlwind circle of encouragement, compliments, film, kisses, and sex. He would stand behind her in everything she did, bending over backwards, showering her with all the love he had. She had really taken Mark for granted. She knew there would never be another guy who could love her as much as he did. When she announced she was quitting her job (which was almost every other month) he would tell her she would get it this time and take on an extra shift and the camera store he worked at. Then there was that god damn camera. He was always playing with it, more often times telling her to show her pretty face so he could remember the good times forever. Maureen would abide, eating the attention up and smiling. Then there was the one great show where everyone would be sure she would get somewhere. After those performances, the sex was great. They were both so hyped up, forgetting who they were and their worries. Then everything would fall apart and the cycle would start over again.
Maureen really didn't want to deal with that anymore. She knew sooner or later there would be a ring, a question, a wedding, a white picket fence, and a baby. She knew deep down she didn't really want that. Sure, she wanted to settle down eventually, but not now and not with Mark. It would just be another circle of PTA, soccer practice, ballet, and dinner. Wasn't there more to life than that?
Her finger stopped spinning a circle. She knew what she had to do. She needed to get out of the circle and start her own path, blaze her own trail. She had to set the bar a little higher, try something new, and take a risk. Maureen found an escape.
Fin