I'm getting too absorbed in this story. I'm half expecting to wake up in the Loft one inch shorter, blond hair and either pregnant or with twin babies nearby. It's a little creepy.
I don't own this so yeah shut up and stop bugging me.
I'm walking down Avenue A. Pie in hand I stomp up the stairs to my old apartment. It's been filled with video supplies and a projector.
Thanks a lot, Mark.
I continue up the stairs to the next floor, Mimi's.
She's not inside but I hear music on the next level. I climb up the escape and into the Loft.
There, Mark is filming (again), Roger is on his guitar, Mimi is sitting next to him and Maureen and Joanne are pulled close together in the next seat.
"Hey guys!" I greet them.
"April! You're back!" Mimi shouts happily, giving me a hug.
Ya know, despite the whole ugly past… I love it here.
Maureen also runs over to join us and also hugs me and Joanne joins us.
"Hey, what's been going ON? We haven't seen you in months!" she exclaims.
"Long story. Hey, I have a sister!" I say, "Remember Olive?"
"Oh yeah, the look alike girl with the little kid?" Mark asks, joining the clump.
"Yeah, her. She's my sister, her mom abandoned me when I was born so now I know why I was an orphan. From the streets."
"Wait… you were a street orphan?" Maureen asks, eyes widening.
Oh yeah. I didn't tell her that one.
"Oops. Right. Forgot to tell ya that, heh heh," I say uncomfortably, "Anyway, I didn't get home so fast because I went to rehab,
then I went back because she was pregnant again so I thought I should help and they gave me a job. And an apartment."
Not goin' into the details about Chuck.
"Brought ya pie!"
I pull out from behind me a wooden box with the Pie Hole logo, a guy eating a piece of pie, glued down to the box.
"Wow. That smells REALLY GOOD!" Maureen shouts.
"It's fresh."
I hold out the box. Roger takes it over and grabs himself a slice.
"NO WAY I CALL FIRST PIECE!!!" Maureen yells, snatching the pie wedge from him and stuffing it into her mouth. We all burst out laughing as Maureen stares at me in shock as the deliciousness of pie sinks in.
"The Piemaker helped me make this," I state.
"Wait… YOU baked this???" Maureen asks suspiciously as she takes another bite of pastry.
"Mostly," I shrug.
"YOU CAN'T COOK!!!" Maureen shrieks.
"I learned when I was away."
"BUT YOU SUCKED AT COOKING!!!"
Behold, fellow people: Maureen Johnson. Bohemian. Best friend of mine other than Mimi Marquez and Olive Snook.
Oh thanks a lot, Maureen," I say sarcastically.
"I-I mean… just bake your pies."
With that, each of the Bohemians get themselves a slice of New York's best pie. I think Mark is now cooking up a plan to document the Pie Hole.
It's been a few hours and a great time with the Bohemians, they tried to offer me some wine which I (thank goodness) refuse.
"Hey, where's Collins anyway?" I ask.
"He's out. Visiting Angel," Roger said.
"Oh."
I should do that later.
"So, got any new songs?"
I look at his guitar.
"Oh yeah, ever since I wrote Your Eyes I've been getting a bunch of ideas. Listen," Roger says and begins tuning up his fender guitar.
Ooh, love it!
"Ya know, maybe we should publish this stuff. It might be a Broadway musical later!" I exclaim.
"Yeah right, who would want to know about us?" Mark asks.
"Uh…"
Who WOULD want to know about us?
The people known as the Bohemians consist of a dorky filmmaker, a dancer, a once-great rock musician, a bi performer, a cross dressing drag queen (before death), a computer hacker, a lawyer and a teenage drunk.
God, we ARE screwed up.
"Exactly," Mark says, setting his camera down.
"Crap, um, you know, I've gotta go. I probably should get back to the pie baking and such," I tell the group, walking toward the door.
"Okay, bye April," Maureen calls, "Bring us more pie!"
I laugh at this as I leave while the others call good byes after me. I walk down the street and hop another bus, this time knowing where I'm going. I eventually get to the Pie Hole when I hear Olive's voice float out of the pie shop.
"Whatever, Ned. Just hold Nathan."
Nathan? Must be the baby.
Ned looks at his fiancee and walks out to the kitchen. Probably the back way. Olive looks at Chuck, fire in her eyes.
Oh, crap. Here we go.
