I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.
Collins couldn't sleep. There were too many memories cluttering his mind. He wished they would leave him alone. That James would stay out of his life. That his mother would stop using her illness to get him to do whatever she wanted. He couldn't close his eyes without picturing her in a hospital bed, withering away while asking James when he was coming to see her. He then looked over at Angel and saw that the moonlight that came through the window was shining on her sleeping face. Slowly and gently, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Then he saw it. A bruise was forming on his arm where he'd given in to temptation. He stared at it in disgust. There was no way he was getting any sleep now.
The next morning, Collins asked Angel to call in sick to work for him. She didn't think he looked sick at all, but she completely understood if he just needed a mental health day. Once she made the call, she made breakfast and brought some to him after serving Mark.
"I'm not hungry right now," Collins told her. He was lying on the bed with his back to her. She looked at him lovingly.
"Well, I'll just put it here and you can eat it when you are hungry," she said, placing the plate of food and glass of orange juice on the night stand. She then kissed her lover on the cheek. "I'm gonna step out for some groceries, okay?" Collins rolled over to face her.
"You're leavin'?" He sounded like a small child. Angel giggled and kissed his forehead.
"Only for a little while," she said. "And Mark will still be here." Collins sighed and nodded as Angel left the room. He rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. Every few minutes, he would lift his bruised arm and stare at it, wondering why he'd been so weak. Mark entered the room after Angel had been gone for about a half hour.
"Hey, Collins," he said. Collins turned his head toward Mark. "How are you this morning?"
"I want you to know, you're terrible at small talk," Collins replied, sitting up and letting his feet hang over the side of the bed.
"I wasn't really trying to make small talk. I was asking an actual question. How are you this morning after whatever happened with your brother after dinner?"
"I'm fine, Mark." Collins looked away from Mark and focused on the now cold plate of food Angel had put on the night stand. He didn't see Mark walk over to the dresser and pick up James' case.
"Are you gonna take this back to him, or is he coming to get it?" he asked as he unzipped the case. Hearing the zipper of the case, Collins quickly looked back at Mark just as the filmmaker opened it. He leapt off the bed and practically ran across the room. "You're brother's a-"
"Don't worry about it," Collins interrupted, snatching the case out of Mark's hand and zipping it back up.
"That must be why you never mentioned you had a brother. It's because he's a junkie. Have you tried getting him help or . . ." Mark stopped talking as Collins reached past him to put the case back on the dresser. He grabbed his friend's arm and stared at the bruise. His eyes went wide. "Collins . . ."
"Mark, before you say anything-"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Mark interrupted. Collins snatched his arm away.
"It's nothin' you need to concern yourself with, Mark," Collins told him.
"Nothing I need to . . . Collins, why the hell would do this to yourself? Does that thing really belong to James, or did you make that up to cover up the fact that it's yours?"
"It's really his and you're makin' this a bigger deal than it actually is."
"No, I'm not, Collins! You know how much stress we were under trying to take care of Roger when he was . . . and now you're . . . I can't even look at you right now! I'm going to find Angel." Mark left the room and Collins ran after him, catching him by his arm in the hallway.
"Mark, you can't tell Angel," he said. "You just can't."
"Collins, I can't keep something like this from her!" Mark shouted. "What you did . . . that's not you! That's not who you are! God! Why would you do something so stupid?" Collins glared at Mark and let go of his arm.
"You have no right to judge me," he told Mark. "You don't know what I've done, what I've been through. You don't even know who I am."
"I've known you for years, Collins."
"That's just it. You know Collins. You don't know one damn thing about Tom. You don't know what Tom's about, but you need to know this: if provoked, Tom can snap your neck." Collins' eyes flashed with anger. It was then that he noticed he was still holding James' case. "When Angel gets back, tell her I went to find James and give this back to him." He backed Mark into a wall. "And that better be all you tell her."
After Collins had gotten dressed, he walked to Central Park and sat on a bench. He had no idea where James was and there was no use in him pretending he did. He was just glad to be away from Mark and his assumptions. Mostly because his assumptions were undoubtedly right. Temptation began to slowly consume him as he looked at the case in his hand. He touched the zipper, but forced himself not to open it. Temptation wasn't going to win. Not this time.
A girl sat down next to him. He felt her staring at him, but he refused to make eye contact with her. He wanted to be left alone.
"Whatcha' got there?" the girl asked. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and her tone was needy.
"Nothin'," Collins replied, still staring at the case.
"You got any money on you?"
"No."
"Not even a dollar?"
"No."
"A quarter?"
"I don't have any money. Stop asking."
"What's in there then? It looks like a wallet."
"It's not a wallet. Leave me alone."
"Open it." Collins fell silent and slowly opened the case. He stared at its contents and quickly shut it when his desire to feel the high he'd felt the previous night came back. "You wanna share that?" Collins zipped the case and looked at the girl, who was staring at it.
"No, I don't wanna share it," he told her sternly. "I wanna take it back to its owner and get it out of my life. Who are you anyway?"
"Just a stranger," the girl replied. "And it's too bad you don't wanna share." The girl looked up at him. "I'd do anything for a hit right about now." Collins felt his heart break as he looked into her eyes. He recognized them anywhere. He knew this girl.
"Sophie?" He studied her. Her curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her clothes were torn in some places. Beads of sweat formed on her light brown skin. She'd lost a tremendous amount of weight. She was shaking, not much, but enough for Collins to notice it.
"You know me?" Sophie asked. Collins placed a hand on the side of her face.
"Sophie, it's me." Sophie squinted at him. Collins didn't understand how she couldn't remember him. He'd never forget her.
"Oh my God. Tom?" Collins nodded and Sophie immediately trapped him in a hug. He returned the hug gently, in fear that he would hurt her frail body. "I haven't seen you in . . . God, how long has it been?"
"Too long, Sophie. Way too long." Collins released her from the hug and just looked at her. He wanted to cry. "Sophie . . . what happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean. The last time I saw you, you said you were quitting." Sophie looked down at her hands.
"I'm not as strong as you, Tom," she said quietly. "I couldn't do it. I tried really hard, but I just couldn't do it. Not without you with me." Collins looked away from her. "We made a pact. We said we'd meet in Queens in two years, but you never showed up. I was so scared. I thought you died. Then James said he talked to a friend of yours and he gave him your number. And when you didn't answer or call back . . . I thought Darrell got to you. Why'd you break the pact, Tom?"
"I just . . . couldn't go through with it," Collins admitted. "I couldn't step back into the past." Sophie slid closer to him and tapped the case.
"Then why do you have this?" she asked. Collins looked down at the case.
"It's not mine," he replied, still staring at it. "It belongs to James."
"Really? You've seen him?"
"He found my apartment yesterday, came by, and left this. I think he did it on purpose." Sophie slipped the case out of Collins' hand. He watched as she slowly opened it and ran her index finger over the barrel of one of the needles.
"I could take it to him," she said. Collins took the case back and closed it.
"If temptation can drive me to use this, I can only imagine what it can do to you," he told Sophie as he zipped the case. Sophie tilted her head to one side.
"What are you saying?" she asked. Collins sighed, put the case down next to him, took his left arm out of the sleeve of his coat, and lifted the sleeve of his shirt. Sophie gasped softly and slowly ran her fingers across Collins' bruise.
"I'm not as strong as you think I am," Collins said.
"You're in pain," Sophie replied. "That's what you told me when you helped me shoot up for the first time. You said you only do this when you're hurting." She pressed a soft kiss to the bruise before looking up at Collins. "Who hurt you, Tom?"
"Nobody. It's just . . . seeing James again after all these years."
"It's the memories, isn't it? The memories that James brought with him when he came to your apartment are what hurt you." Collins looked into Sophie's eyes. They held nothing but love.
"You know me too well," he said, putting his shirt sleeve back down. He put his arm back into the sleeve of his coat and stood up.
"Do you want me to take you to where James is?" Sophie asked, standing up as well. Collins simply nodded and let Sophie take his hand. She led him through streets and alleyways he didn't even know existed. As they walked, Collins took note of how many people were doing some type of drug. His mind wandered back to a time when he was one of those people.
When they reached a rundown apartment building, Sophie pulled him inside. They walked to the fourth door on the first floor and Sophie knocked.
"Sophie, where are we?" Collins asked.
"Where the junkies come to play," Sophie answered. A few moments passed before a man answered the door.
"Sophie!" he exclaimed, pulling the girl into a hug. He then noticed Collins was with her and ended the hug. "Who's he?"
"A friend of mine," Sophie said. "He's James' brother." The man's eyes widened. "Is James here?"
"Yeah. Get in here." The man pulled Sophie and Collins inside. He then disappeared into one of the rooms in the apartment. Clouds of cigarette smoke filled the room and there were too many people to count sprawled out on furniture and the floor. Some of the people were shooting up, others were smoking or snorting.
"What kind of place is this?" Collins asked Sophie quietly.
"I already told you, Tom," Sophie replied. The man who had invited them in suddenly emerged from the room he'd gone in with James right behind him.
"Well, I'll be damned," James said. "My little brother came to visit me." Collins could tell he was high, but he wasn't quite sure what he was on. He held his arms out for a hug and Collins pushed him away.
"Don't touch me," he demanded, holding James' case out to him.
"Why, thank you!" James took his case and opened it. He then looked at Collins and smiled. "Looks like I'm missin' some things." Collins looked away from James, who laughed. "I knew you couldn't stay away. Did you come here to have a good time?"
"No. I came to give you that back and then go on with my life."
"You're leaving?" Sophie asked. She sounded so disappointed. Collins took her hand in his and kissed it gently.
"I have to. There's just . . . too many memories and-"
"You don't want to give into temptation again?" Sophie guessed. Collins kissed her forehead.
"I told you, you know me too well," he said.
"Will I see you again?" Collins looked into Sophie's eyes. She seemed sad. He wanted to tell her she'd see him soon, but he knew that wasn't likely.
"I don't know, Sophie. I just don't know." As he walked to the door to leave, Sophie grabbed his arm.
"Please, don't go, Tom."
"I have to."
"Stay. At least for a little while. Please, Tom?" Collins knew he had to get back to Angel, but something in him told him he should stay. He decided to listen to that part of him, mostly because he wanted to try to get Sophie to stop using.
"Okay," he said. "Just for a little while."
Collins had only planned to stay for an hour or so, but between getting caught up in the conversation he was having with Sophie and once again giving in to his desires even though he did his best to fight them, hours flew by. It was around 8:30 p.m. by the time he was heading back to his apartment. He was sure Angel would be worried sick about him, and maybe even a little angry. Especially if she found out what he'd done. He attempted to think of an excuse as to why he'd been out so long, but his mind was so clouded he didn't think he'd be able to form a sentence.
When he reached the door of the apartment, he hesitated before opening it.
As he stepped into the apartment, he immediately saw Mimi sitting on the couch with Angel, holding her hand. Roger was sitting on the arm of the couch watching them. All three of them looked to Collins when they heard the door open. Collins noticed Angel had been crying and dropped his coat, which he'd carried home, onto the floor. After he shut the door, he took a few steps toward the couch.
"What's goin' on?" he asked. Roger and Mimi were glaring at him, but he wasn't focused on them at the moment. He was more concerned with why Angel's face was tearstained. "What's wrong, baby?"
"Collins . . . where have you been?" Angel asked, letting go of Mimi's hand and slowly standing up. Her eyes told Collins she was hurt and he was sure he was the cause of it.
"I was . . . trying to find James." Angel walked to Collins, took his left hand, and lifted his sleeve. There were new bruises just like the one Collins had discovered the previous night. Angel gasped and immediately dropped Collins' hand. He pulled the sleeve back down. "Angel-"
"I didn't want to believe it," Angel interrupted. "But now . . . I can't believe you'd do something like this, Collins." Angel went back to the couch and sat with Mimi, who held her.
"Mark told you," Collins guessed, anger starting to boil in him. Roger then stood up.
"No," he said, walking toward Collins. "Mark did what you said to do. When Angel came home, he told her you went to find James to give him his stuff back. Then he came back to the loft and I asked him what was wrong because he looked so upset. He told me about the case and about what you did. I asked him if he told Angel and he told me that you threatened to snap his neck if he did, so I told Mimi. Mimi's the one who told Angel, not Mark." Roger looked straight into Collins' eyes. "And I dare you to lay one finger on her."
"Look, Roger-"
"What the hell did you do this for?" Roger interrupted angrily. "You've seen what drugs did to me and April! Drugs will not help you through whatever it is you're going through, Collins!"
"Says the man who's dating a junkie," Collins replied dryly.
"Leave Mimi out of this! I'm gonna help her quit, but how am I supposed to do that when I know someone else I care about is starting to use?"
"What makes you think I'm just now starting?"
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Forget it."
"I'm not gonna forget it, Collins! You're gonna explain yourself right now!" Collins shoved the rocker.
"I don't have to fucking explain myself to you, Roger!" he shouted.
"Then explain yourself to me, Collins," Angel said softly. Collins looked to her. "Why did you do it, honey?" Collins opened his mouth to say something, but shut it. "Collins?"
"Are you gonna answer her?" Mimi asked. Her voice had an angry tone to it. Roger glared at Collins as if he could somehow make him speak.
"I . . . can't tell you, Angel," Collins replied.
"Then why are we together?" Angel whispered. Collins walked past Roger and stared at Angel, who was looking at the floor.
"What did you say?" Angel slowly looked up at Collins and tried her best not to cry.
"We promised we wouldn't keep secrets from each other," she said. "I've told you everything there is to know about me, but you . . . you have this whole past I know nothing about. You told me you were an only child, then I find out you have a brother! You used heroin in this apartment, but you won't tell me why! And you keep throwing the names Darrell and Sophie around, but I know if I ask who they are, you won't tell me! I don't even know who you are anymore, Collins! Tell me this: why are we together if you can't fucking trust me? I trust you!"
"Angel . . . you have no idea how much I wanna tell you everything about my past," Collins told her. "But I just . . . can't. You mean too much to me."
"What does that mean?" Collins fell silent and looked away from Angel. "You know what? I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending I'm fine with you having all these secrets and not trusting me with them." Angel was on the verge of tears.
"Angel, what are you saying?"
"I'm gonna stay with Mimi for a while. You need some time alone."
"Are you . . . breaking up with me?"
"I'm not sure." Angel stood up and started walking to the bedroom. Collins grabbed her arm. She stopped walking. "Collins-"
"Angel, you can't leave me," Collins interrupted. "You just can't. Please, stay with me." Angel gently pulled Collins' hand off of her arm.
"I have to go." Angel quickly made her way to the bedroom with Collins right behind her. Roger and Mimi followed them to make sure nothing violent happened. Angel took a small suitcase out of the closet, opened it, and placed it on the bed.
"Angel . . . please think about what you're doin'," Collins said.
"I have thought about it," Angel told him, looking through the drawers of the dresser. "I have to go." Collins watched Angel pack in silence, hoping she would come to her senses and stop at any moment. His hopes were crushed when she closed the suitcase and picked it up.
"You ready?" Mimi asked her friend. Angel nodded and began leaving the room. Collins grabbed her arm again. "Get off of her, Collins."
"No," Collins said. "Angel, don't leave."
"Get off of her!"
"You're not taking her from me Mimi! I can't lose her! Baby, please don't leave me!" He looked into Angel's eyes and began to cry. She slipped her arm out of his grasp and took Mimi's hand. She, Mimi, and Roger left the room. Collins hesitated before following them. Roger opened the door and Angel looked back at Collins.
"I still love you," she said. "I just . . . I just-"
"Angel, I had a really bad drug problem," Collins said quickly. "When I saw James, I started to remember how the high felt and I wanted to feel it again. That's not the only time I've been tempted though." Tears fell from his eyes like rivers. "I kept trying to tell myself I didn't need the drugs because I had you, but . . . I'm not as strong as I thought I was and I gave in to temptation . . . more than once." Angel gasped softly. "The urges are getting worse . . . I don't know what to do."
"Honey . . ." Angel said, putting the suitcase down on the floor. She walked toward Collins and wiped some of his tears away. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him.
"Angel . . . please don't leave me. I need you. I need you . . . please help me, Angel. Help me." Angel cupped Collins' face in her hands and kissed his lips gently.
"I will," she whispered. "I'll help you. I'll stay and I'll help you."
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