Thanks for the reviews everyone! This is my first story, but it's something that's been in my head forever. It's not coming out in writing quite the same way it is in my head, but I'll blame a distinct lack of talent on that one. I hope you enjoy the second installment! I'm pretty long winded, so don't be afraid to tell me to shut up and stop writing if it becomes horribly boring ;)
Disclaimer: I still own nothing
Mark's thought still in italics
Still Mark's POV
Wednesday, October 31, 1990 Late evening
"SPEAK!"
Mark awoke to the sound of the answering machine. Oh man, I must have fallen asleep. He slowly opened his eyes, and had to blink a few times before it registered where he was. What the hell? I fell asleep in the floor?
"Mark?" Maureen's here? What? "Mark, if you're there pick up." Oh yeah, answering machine. Maybe I just need to go back to sleep. "Maarrkky. Ok, I guess you're not there. Or sleeping. Actually, I hope you are sleeping because you looked really tired today, but I guess we're all a little…. stretched. Um, anyway, I just wanted to see if Roger left yet, and to see if you wanted to meet Joanne and I at the Life for lunch tomorrow. Give me a call ok? I'll be here, uh, at Joanne's. Love you. Bye"
Mark chuckled softly as he sat up and brushed the dust bunnies off his clothing. "Good for them." He said out loud to himself with a small smile. He stood up and wandered over to the machine to erase Maureen's message and noticed the light blinking. That's weird, I must have been really out of it, I didn't even hear the machine kick in. Well, I was on the floor…so…wait, I was on the floor. I couldn't have just fallen asleep on the floor.
Mark ran a hand through his blonde, spiky hair. He hissed as his hand ran over a tender spot on the side of his head. He pulled his hand back to look at it, as though it was what caused the bump he found there. Mark sighed and pressed the button to play his messages, making a mental note to check his reflection in the bathroom before leaving the loft, just to make sure the lump wasn't visible. On habit he moved to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose and found that they weren't there. No wonder everything looks blurry. I must have taken them off before falling asleep. As the first message played, he looked around the counters and tables in the loft for his glasses.
"SPEAK!"
"Mark? It's Benny. You're probably screening your calls right now, and you probably won't pick up now that you know it's me. Um, look, Mark I just…uh…I wanted to call to uh. Shit. Sorry, I'm not used to this. Look, just call me if you need anything ok? I saw you earlier when Roger was leaving, and you looked…uh…strange. You didn't look that hot at the funeral either. I know you think I'm an ass, and you're right, but I'm worried about you. Just call ok? Bye."
"Wow. When did he see me when Roger was leaving? Benny thinks I looked like shit, huh? I guess I'm not as invisible as I thought. I used to be better at hiding these things. I must be losing my touch. Where the hell are my glasses? Why am I talking to myself?"
"SPEAK!"
"Hey Mark? It-it's Mimi. Are you there? I'm pretty sure you're still there, I would have heard you leaving. Listen, I heard what you said to Roger earlier, and I just…well, thanks. You tried. Um, Benny's coming over tomorrow. He's going to bring me to a rehab clinic. I'm gonna get clean...finally. I want to see you before I go, ok? Call me, or just stop by. You know where to find me. Get some sleep, Mark, you looked terrible today. Love you."
Oh geeze, Mimi thinks I looked like shit too? I wonder if Collins and Roger thought so too. I should stop by. I can't believe she's going to rehab tomorrow. Mark felt himself fighting off tears as he thought of Mimi not being right downstairs, even if they wouldn't be seeing each other all the time. But he couldn't help but also feel an incredible sense of pride that she was finally getting clean. I can't wait to tell Roger. Maybe he'll come home if she gets herself clean.
"Good for you Meems, good for you." He said out loud, swallowing the tears that were building up behind his eyes. He took a couple breaths to calm himself, but the action only resulted in another headache.
"You are kidding me." Mark moaned. Well, at least that's one thing that won't leave me alone. He thought bitterly.
He stepped back over to the answering machine to delete Benny and Mimi's messages, and he caught a glimpse of something catching the dim lamplight on the floor in front of the couch. "My glasses! How did they get over here?" Mark wiped his glasses off on his shirt and placed them on his face. Standing there, in the middle of the loft, he suddenly felt very alone. He glanced around at the dusty table with Captain Crunch crumbs and a few splashes of milk, there were a few dishes in the sink, there was still some coffee left in the pot on the counter, and the door to Roger's room was slightly ajar. It was so quiet, the sound of his footsteps as he made his way slowly towards Roger's room echoed in his ears. He reached his hand out, almost in slow motion, to push the door open all the way. The room was dark, a tiny bit of moonlight snuck past the makeshift curtain tacked up over the small, dingy, window. It was just barely enough to allow Mark to make out the items in the room. An old, tattered mattress lay on the floor against the wall with a threadbare sheet draped over it. A few posters from bands Roger had been in decorated the walls with the wallpaper tearing off. A few mismatched socks littered the floor that probably hadn't been swept or mopped in months. An old bureau Collins found discarded next to a dumpster in an alley sat in the corner. Mark snorted and smiled to himself to see that Roger had left the drawers pulled open still. It was just like him to not bother to shut the drawers. Mark pushed himself away from the doorway he had been leaning against and walked over to push the drawers shut. They squeaked in protest, which caused his headache to flare angrily at the irritating noise.
"Shit." He squeezed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly against the pain. He reached out a shaky hand to steady himself on the bureau as a wave of dizziness swept over him.
"SPEAK!" The phone rang? What the hell is wrong with me? Mark stayed where he was, propped up against Roger's bureau waiting to hear who was calling.
"Mark? Buddy, it's Collins." Collins? Wait, I'm coming. Mark took a deep breath and pushed himself off the bureau and stumbled out of Roger's room and over to the answering machine. "Hey, man, pick up if you're there I want to talk to you."
Mark fumbled the phone before finally gaining control of his hands and bringing the receiver to his face. "Collins? Yeah, I'm here."
"Mark, hey. I tried calling a couple times already, but I didn't leave any messages. Were you screening?"
"Uh…not exactly." Mark took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "I, uh, I, I dozed off. Sorry." That sounded brilliant.
"Sorry if I woke you up with all my calls."
"Oh, no, you didn't. I woke up about 10 minutes ago. So what's up?"
"Oh, yeah. Well, not much really. Did Roger get off ok?"
Mark ignored the urge to make some crude joke with that last question. "Yeah, he's gone," Mark sighed. "He left about 20 minutes after I got home, I think." I yelled at him, he hates me, he's never coming back. "He'll call when he gets there."
"Oh, that's good." There was an awkward pause in the conversation before Collins spoke again. "How long did you sleep? You looked like you could use a good nap earlier. How're you holding up?"
Ok, so I guess Collins did notice. Apparently I'm transparent.
"Aren't I supposed to be asking you that question? I'm fine. I took a nap, so… ship shape!" Mark closed his eyes and frowned while trying to fake enthusiasm over the phone to his friend. "H-How are you?" He asked quietly, feeling a lump forming in his throat. He rubbed his eyes again, suddenly feeling exhausted standing there, talking to one of his closest friends who had just attended the funeral of his lover earlier that day. I can't believe we lost Angel.
There was a pause on the other end of the phone, which made Mark panic, "Collins? Are you ok!"
"Yeah, sorry, man. I'm here. Jury's still out on whether or not I'm fine, though. Sorry, I just…I can't figure out how to feel right now."
"Yeah," Mark breathed. "Yeah, I bet." He wished he could think of something comforting to say to his friend, but his brain didn't seem to be working. A lot of help I am. Way to be there for your friend.
"Yeah… Look, I'm gonna go, maybe try and sleep. Maureen and Joanne want to meet for lunch tomorrow, can you come?"
"Um, yeah, I think so, what time?"
"12:00 I think. You should bring Mimi. See if Benny's around and we can make him pay for it." Collins chucked at himself. At least he can still laugh. I can barely smile without my head feeling like it's going to explode.
"Well, I've got to work at 1:30, but I can show up for a little bit. I don't know about Meems, though. She called earlier and said that Benny was going to be bringing her to a rehab clinic actually, so…. I'll ask though. It could be one last get together before she….goes." Just like everyone else.
"Oh wow. Good for her. I hope she comes, I'll buy her a drink to celebrate. But, wish her luck for me if she can't come, ok? Go to bed, Mark. I don't want to see you at the Life tomorrow wandering around like a zombie. I'll see you tomorrow."
Mark laughed quietly, "Yeah ok, Collins. Same goes for you, ok?"
"Ok, kiddo. Goodnight." Kiddo? What the hell?
"Goodnight."
Mark just stood by the phone for a long time. He tried to focus on the sounds around him so he wouldn't have to feel the pain in his head quite so much, but found that the empty apartment was too quiet for that to work. Even the city outside that supposedly never sleeps was eerily quiet. Figures. The one time I need distraction. Mark sighed and shook his head in case he could somehow shake off this headache. It didn't work. I should see Mimi, ask her to the Life tomorrow. See if she needs anything.
Mark ran his hand through his hair, rubbing against the lump that had mysteriously formed on the side of his head. "Ow, shit." He went over to the bathroom to check his reflection before heading down to Mimi's apartment. Sure enough there was a visible lump near his temple, just on the edge of the hairline. It wasn't that noticeable, but by the looks of it, it was yet to fully change into a lovely purple bruise. Well, that should be attractive tomorrow. How did I even get that? Mark pushed a nagging thought to the back of his mind that quite possibly, the lump on his head, waking up on the floor, and finding his glasses in front of the couch, could all be pointing to something he shouldn't ignore. But wasn't he the king of avoidance? Wouldn't want to go against reputation. I just need to get some sleep for once, I'll be fine in the morning. Maybe I'll actually eat something at lunch. Maybe then my hands will stop shaking.
Mark clenched his jaw and pushed the heavy loft door open and made his way downstairs, determined to push his own concerns aside and focus on Mimi. She was going to need a strong support if she was going to get through these next several months. She might not need him, but he was going to be there for her just in case she wanted a shoulder to cry on, or a rock to rest against.
He raised his hand to knock on Mimi's door, but the door opened before he had a chance to knock.
"Oh!" Mimi gasped at the sight of Mark standing there with his hand raised.
"Sorry Mimi, I didn't mean to scare you." He said quickly, dropping his arm down and rubbing her arm soothingly. He gave her what he hoped was a small smile, but at this point he wasn't fully trusting his masking ability.
"S'ok. I was just coming up to see if you were around. Did you get my message?" Mimi shivered slightly and rubbed her arms, letting Mark's hand fall at his sides and she shifted positions. She looks so lost, so unsure. How could Roger leave her like this?
"Yeah, I did. I was napping, sorry I didn't answer the phone. Hey, it's freezing out here. You wanna come up to the loft for a bit? I could make some coffee." I hope we actually have coffee to make come to think of it.
"Um, ok. Yeah, that would be nice." See, this isn't bad. We can do this. We can keep each other company for a while before she has to face the hell of rehab. This is good. Mark tried to reassure himself as much as he could. He wouldn't be able to be an encouragement to anyone if he didn't have hope himself.
The two friends made their way up the flight of stairs in a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It wasn't until they were in the loft with the door shut that the silence grew uncomfortable and strange. I should make this place look more homey. It feels Mark thought as he looked around the loft as though it was the first time. He tried to fill the unsettling quiet that had filled the air around them by puttering around the kitchen looking for coffee.
"Ah ha!" He exclaimed triumphantly, proudly holding up the coffee can to Mimi, who was presently looking intently at her feet and pushing some dirt around with her toe. "It won't take long, I promise. You can sit down if you want. Make yourself at home, Meems. There's a blanket on the couch if you're cold." Mimi looked up and smiled slightly without making eye contact and took Mark up on his offer. "So…uh, I talked to Collins earlier. He wants us all to meet at the Life for lunch tomorrow, around noon. I didn't know what time Benny was planning on picking you up, but you're both more than welcome to join us. There's even free alcohol involved," Mark tried to make his voice sound light and hopeful, "If you're up to drinking that early in the day, Collins said he'd buy."
Mimi cleared her throat and forced a smile at Mark, "Yeah, I-I'd like that. I'll call Benny, see if he wants to come. He can take me to the clinic afterwards. Maybe I can show up drunk and really impress them." She giggled a girlish giggle that quickly died in her throat and gave way to tears. Her tiny frame shook as she sobbed. She looked so small and fragile sitting there on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest, the blanket hanging loosely around her narrow shoulders. Mark froze for a moment at the sight before him, until is body caught up to his mind and he quickly rushed to her side.
"Shhh. Shhh. It's ok, Meems. It's ok." He whispered as he kneeled on the couch in front of her. He took her small hand lightly in his own and caressed it gently with his thumb. His other hand reached out and on instinct he began rubbing her arm. His heart broke to see her like this. The poor girl had been dealt two major blows back to back. Her best friend had gotten sick and succumbed to the virus that has poisoned 4 of the 7 (8 if you count Benny) friend's blood streams, while at the same time her relationship with her boyfriend had crumbled and fallen. The day of Angel's funeral, the man she was still in love with left to try to "find his song" in Santa Fe, and tomorrow she was about to admit herself into a rehab clinic to once and for all kick the smack addiction that had taken over her life. It was more than anyone should have to bear, and her frail shoulders didn't look like they could take that weight. But she was tough, and feisty. She had more strength than her slight size showed, and Mark knew it. Now if he could just convince her of that.
Mark pulled the shaking girl into a hug and rubbed her back as she wept in his arms, clinging to him for dear life. "Shhh, it's ok, honey. Everything will be better I promise."
"I'm so scared Mark. I don't know if I can do this alone. Why did he have to leave? Why did they both have to leave?"
"I know, Mimi, I know. I don't know why they had to leave, and to be honest, right now I could murder Roger for his crappy timing. But you know what?" He asked as he grabbed her shoulders gently and held her away from him briefly so he could look her in the eye before returning her to the embrace. "You can do this. You have Angel watching over you, cheering you on. Roger loves you, and he wants you to be healthy. He'll be back, you'll see. You just need to concentrate on getting better. I'll visit you everyday if you want me to, and if they'll let me! We all care about you Mimi, and we all know that you have what it takes to beat this. The next time Roger sees you, you'll be happy and healthy, and sexy as ever! You'll blow him away. He won't be able to resist." She laughed at his ending comments as she pulled out of Mark's arms. She sniffed and wiped her eyes so she could look at him clearly.
"Mark, you…." She laughed again. "Thank you so much. I don't know how you do that."
"Do what?" He said, cocking his head to the side like a puppy
"Say exactly what people need to hear. You really are a good friend."
Mark smiled sadly and shook his head. No I'm not. I accused Roger of not caring about us. I picked a fight right before he had to leave for a car ride across the country. I'm a horrible person.
"Roger loves you too you know." Mimi said, reading his thoughts. Ok, wow, now I know for sure that I'm completely see-through. How did she just do that?
"W-what? I mean… I know that. Mimi I…. I said some hurtful things to him tonight. Would if he never forgives me?" Mark didn't know why he suddenly felt like he could express his fears to the girl in front of him. She was Roger's girlfriend, who had only recently started to become his friend too. He wasn't normally so quick to show his vulnerabilities to people. But at that moment, everything felt so raw, so fresh. They needed each other, and he knew it.
"Mark don't do that to yourself." This time it was Mimi's turn to pull her friend into a comforting embrace. "You said yourself he'll come back. You guys have been friends forever, it would take a lot more than one argument for him to just end that. Besides… I was there, I heard some of your fight. Roger said some pretty nasty things to you too. Are you going to forgive him?"
But that's different. "There was never anything to forgive." They sat holding each other quietly for a minute until Mark felt Mimi yawn. I guess we can have old coffee in the morning. I think it's time this little girl gets to bed. "Mimi," he said, pulling out of her arms. "You must be exhausted, and you have quite a day ahead of you. What do you say we call it a night?"
"Yeah, I think that would be the smart thing to do." She agreed, stretching her thin limbs out in front of her with another yawn. She regarded Mark for a moment, taking in the shadows under his eyes, his disheveled hair, his pale skin that almost glowed in the soft, yellow light of the loft. His eyes looked tired, and his shoulders slumped. His forehead was wrinkled slightly, almost as if he was wincing from some kind of hidden pain. Mark thought he saw a worried glint in her eyes before she blinked it away, laughed lightly, and swatted his arm playfully. "You'd make a good mom," she joked standing up from the couch. "The perfect Jewish mom." She added, giggling to herself with her hand over her mouth.
Mark stood up and rolled his eyes. Which actually caused his ever-present headache to strengthen suddenly, to an alarming degree. His hand involuntarily flew to his head, and he hoped that the action hid the wince that he couldn't help but show. Although he was pretty sure that the hissing sound that accompanied it didn't go unnoticed. Thinking quickly, he tried to cover it by pretending that Mimi's comment had caused the pain. "Ow! Mimi, that hurts!" He forced out a chuckle, just for good measure. When the initial stab of pain subsided enough, he opened his eyes, and tried to gauge her reaction. Please buy that, please.
Mimi laughed with him, and swatted his arm again. Good save, Cohen. Her eyes turned solemn once the laughter died down. She suddenly looked nervous and unsure again, standing there by the door. She shuffled her feet and bit her lip. "Hey, Mark?"
"Yeah?"
"I uh, was wondering… c-could I maybe…um…"
"Yeah, you can stay here tonight if you want." He finished for her.
"Yeah… thanks." She sighed in relief. "I'll just take the couch."
"No, no, you don't need to do that. There's a mattress in Roger's room. Although, I'm not sure when the last time he washed his sheets was. They probably got washed the last time I washed them…. But I have some clean sheets! You can use those. Hold on, I'll get them." Mark went scurrying off to gather the bedding while Mimi hesitantly made her way to the doorway to Roger's room. It was so empty, but his mark was still there. "Here you go, Meems." Mark stopped as he caught her torn expression. You are such an idiot! Of course this would be hard for her, sleeping in his room without him. GAH!
"Oh Meems, I'm so sorry. I didn't think. You can sleep in my room. I'll just put these on the bed." He hurried off, shaking his head to himself as he went.
Mimi just sighed and followed him to his room, too tired to argue. "Thanks Mark." she practically whispered.
Within 5 minutes, Mark had her bed and the couch made up. Mimi was already asleep by the time he had finished getting ready for bed. He watched her for a moment, leaning against the doorway. Sleep well, Mimi. I hope you have pleasant dreams tonight.
Mark dropped onto the couch, he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, hoping that tonight his dreams would also be pleasant, and that tomorrow would be a better day - one free of headaches, heartbreak, fights, andunexplained lumps on his head.
