"Abby, I'm just saying."

"I know, Roger, but you're always 'just saying'."

"Come on, guys," Mark sighed, tired of the conversation. "Let's just get there."

Abeth nodded, wrapping her black coat tighter around her as the six friends walked down the street.

"It's important, though. School's important."

Mimi patted his shoulder. "She knows. Let's just go eat."

Mark pushed open the doors to the Life Café, letting everyone walk in. Mimi, Roger, Collins, Maureen and Abeth filed past him. He wasn't surprised that Joanne has decided not to come. She and Maureen hadn't spoken in a few days.

The nearest waiter groaned. "You guys?"

Mark smiled. "Yup, it's us."

"Did you miss us?" smiled Roger, lacing his fingers through Mimi's.

"I'm assuming you can pay this time..." the man said pointedly.

"You know what they say about assuming," Maureen smiled, crossing her arms.

The waiter sighed, but, he turned around and left them alone.

Mimi and Roger went off to find a table, stopping to talk to a few people they recognized.

Maureen nudged Collins. "Look."

He looked over to where she was pointing, across the room. "Benny?" he asked. "What is he doing here?"

Abeth joined them. "That's Benny? The one sitting with the guy in the suit?"

Collins nodded "Yup, that's him all right. The one in black."

"Come on," Mark said, motioning to Mimi and Roger, "let's sit."

None of the tables were big enough to fit all six of them, so they pushed two together, despite the eye rolls and huffs the waiters gave them.

Abeth looked around for a menu. "How the hell are we supposed to know what to eat?" she asked, still searching.

Mimi laughed from across the table. "We forgot. You're new."

Abeth pushed her lips to one side, annoyed. "Not that new."

Mark, who sat down beside her, pointed to a chalk board on the wall. "We usually just use that."

"It says 'Act Up' on it," Abeth said, wrinkling her nose. "Definatly don't want any of that."

"Like I said," said Mimi with a shrug, "new."

Maureen leaned over Mark. "Try the pasta."

Roger stuck out his tongue in disgust. "Just don't try the meatballs."

"Okay," she said, folding her arms on the table, "I trust you two." Abeth took a moment to take in her surroundings while the others talked. It was the furst time she had been to the Life Café, though she had heard them all talk about it.

Tattered, faded posters covered the walls, and a window at the end of the café let you glance out into the black, dirty street. The tables were old, too, and the one they sat at had one leg slightly shorter then all the rest. The chairs were uncomfortable, the lighting was terrible and it was crowded and smokey.

She loved it.

Just then, Benny walked up to them, adjusting his tie slightly as he stood in front of the tables.

Mark turned to Abeth and rolled her eyes, dramatically. She surpressed a giggle, smiling up at him.

"A performance I didn't know about?" Benny asked with a little smile.

"No," said Maureen. Leaning back in her seat, "but there is one I wasn't planning to tell you about in a few days."

"Well then," said Benny, looking at each of them and shifting somewhat uncomfortably, "what brings you here?"

Collins shrugged. "Should ask you the same thing."

"I'm in a meeting." He motioned behind him at the man in the gray suit sitting a few tables away.

Maureen motioned around the table. "So are we. You're interrupting."

Benny laughed, softly. "All right, I get it. I'm leaving." He looked over at Mimi. "You look good."

Mimi nodded, avoiding eye contact. "I feel good."

He nodded to himself. "Good, good. You too, Rog?"

"Peachy," he said with a smirk.

Benny nodded again, not sure of what to do.

"Don't worry about me," said Collins, as if he were trying to break the tension that had found time in the short exchange to build up. "I'm fine."

Benny smiled. "I'm glad."

He noticed Abeth and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," said Mark, "this is Abeth. Abby, this is Benjiman."

"Benny."

"Benny," Mark repeated for her.

"Nice to finally meet you," Abeth said, polietly. "I guess I kind of owe you."

"Oh really?" Benny said. "Why?"

"Without you, these guys probably wouldn't have a cot, so I wouldn't have a place to sleep."

Benny over looked at Mark. "She's staying with you?"

Mark nodded.

"You can ask her, you know," Collins put in, "she's right there."

Benny looked back to Abeth. "Sorry." He sighed. "All right, then," he said, taking a last look at them all. "I guess I'll see you all later."

"See yeah," Maureen said, unenthusasticly, as the rest of them mumbled their goodbyes.

"So..." Abeth said as he left, "that's Benny."

"Yup," Roger said, putting his arm around Mimi's shoulders, "that's Benny."

The conversation moved on, and the friends chatted away, but Abeth couldn't help but watch Benny out of the corner of her eye. It was weird seeing him. It was a glimpse into the past they had without her, the bonds and ties they'd formed before her. Weird, but in a way, kind of nice. Almost as if now, she were tied to them, too.

Abeth went to rest her foot against on one of the table legs, but found another already there. She looked over at Mark sitting beside her, talking to Collins. Realizing the foot could only belong to him, she weighed her options.

Without too much thought, she kicked his foot away and placed her own there.

Not turning away from his conversation, Mark pushed Abeth out of the way, replacing his foot.

Abeth, keeping herself as composed as she could, and taking a bite of pasta without meatless balls, gently pushed his foot to one side until it reached the edge of the table leg and fell off with a thud. She giggled when she realized how hard he was trying to keep a straight face.

All of the sudden, Mark pushed her foot as hard as he could.

She pushed back, until a fell on foot-war waged under the table.

"Ow!" cried Mimi from the other side of the table. "What the...?"

Instantly, both feet placed themselves neatly on the floor where they belonged.

"Sorry," said Abeth, as innocently as she could manage, "I was trying to put my foot up."

Mimi nodded understandingly and went back to listening to Maureen, her head resting on Roger's shoulder.

Abeth decided to stop playing around and try to listen to Maureen as well. She was explaining why she and Joanne were fighting.

"It really doesn't matter," Maureen said with a huff. "I got a new performance manager, anyways." A little smirk pulled at the corner of her lips and her eyes lit up playfully. "He's really cute, too. His name is Toby." Maureen turned to Abeth, "You should check him out! Oh wait..." she said, thinking for a minute, "He's twenty-five. Is that too old?"

Abeth felt a gentle nudge on the side of her foot. Instinctively, she pushed back.

"He doesn't sound right for me."

"Mimi! Mimi!" they all chanted, as she jumped up on her chair. She swung her hips dramatically from side to side.

"Whoo!" shouted Maureen, as Collins' laugh rang through the cafe. Mark ordered more beer for all of them, over the hoots and hollars that flooded their ears.

Mimi raised her arms up over her head, dancing.

Roger held up Mark's camera.

Abeth was amazed by all this, but didn't notice. She was engrossed in the moment. She was shouting. "Shake it, girl!"

"You want me to drink wine?"

"Or beer," said Mimi.

Abeth laughed. "All right, gimmie."

"I sh'ever neen - wait," Mark giggled. "I mean, I never seen you drink."

"You're drunk," Collins said flatly.

"Yay!" Maureen cried, "Drunk Marky!"

"Don't call..." he hiccupped, "don't call me Marky."

Mimi slid a beer bottle across the table.

Abeth grabbed it and drank.

Roger called a waiter in leather hot pants over. "Wine and beer!" he demanded.

The waiter winked at Roger as he left, shooting his a bright smile.

"Roger, you have a boyfriend!" Maureen teased.

Mimi laughed loudly, suddenly, startling nearly everyone in the cafe. "Collins! Collins, your name!"

"What about it?"

"It's the same as a drink!"

Mark snorted. "It is!"

The waiter came back and passed out a few more drinks. "Hey," said Roger, pointing to Collins, "his name... it's a drink."

"How nice for him," mutter the waiter, noitcing Mimi's hand in his.

Abeth looked around. "Is it that funny?"

Mimi laughed again, pounding the table. Roger shook his head, giggling at her.

Maureen pushed the beer closer to Abeth. "Drink until it's funny," she intructed.

Abeth decided that, this time, it was best to do as she was told.

The waiter they had seen when they first walked in came up to them. "Are you nearly through here?"

Maureen wrinkled her nose. "Are we being kicked out?"

"No. But you're being very disruptive."

Collins stood up and swung his arm over the waiter's shoulders. "What's your name?"

"Doug," said the waiter, uncomfortably.

"Okay, Doug," said Collins. "Relax."

"Relax?" Doug said, sceptically, lifting Collins' arm off of him.

"Yeah," said Mimi, her head proped up on her hand. "Chill out, man." She looked back to where Benny had been sitting earlier that night. "Your important customer is gone."

The man shook his head. "That's not the point..."

Mark sat up straighter. "The point? There's a point?"

Collins slid back into his seat.

"Doug," continued Mark, "let me tell you about the point." He stood up, as soberly as he could manage. "I've looked and I've looked," he said, spreading his arms out, "for this point. But," he said slowly and a little over dramatically, "and there's on thing on which I must insist." He walked over to Doug and whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear him, "it doesn't exist."

Doug rolled his eyes. "Here we go."

All of the sudden, Abeth felt herself sucked into the words, a beat behind them that she could almost hear.

Maureen stood up from her seat, a sat down on the table. "What's the point of rehearsal when your point is universal, but no one knows and no one goes to see your shows?"

Abeth watched a spark light behind Mimi's eyes as she said, "and what's the point of working when everyone just sits lurking, gawking, stalking? All I need is money, but let me tell you honey," she said, leaning over the table and smiling playfully at Doug, "money doesn't matter when you're dead." Her morbid words were hidden behind the light in her eyes and happy little eighth notes that danced around them all, but the point rang out.

"And what's the point of a song when you keep getting it wrong?" Roger said, pretending to hold a guitar. "You start and it's smart, but you feel it fade from you and don't know what to do. So what's the point?"

Collins flicked his lighter. "Just a reason for another joint."

Mark jumped up on the table, much to Doug's dismay. "So, Dougy, what's the one thing we've learned from this lesson you've earned?"

"That'll need to clean the table?"

"Yes. But another message I think is clear. Look around you..." he said, almost somberly, "there's no point here."

Doug did look around him, surrounded by societies castaways and the people the rest of the world forgot about. "But..."

"Yes!" Maureen cried, excitedly, jumping up onto the table with Mark. "But!"

Abeth, still sitting, looked around, confused.

"But?" Doug repeated.

"Lemmie give it to you," said Collins, again putting his arm around the waiter. He didn't protest this time. "We've looked and we've looked and we haven't found the point they preach from a higher ground."

"But here we are," Mimi said, "still alive. And maybe the point isn't just to survive."

"It's to live!" cried Mark.

"It's to go!"

"It's love," sang Mimi, happily. She thought for a moment. "Or lack there of."

"It's to laugh!"

"It's to catch that note in the back of your throat."

Abeth sat, surrounded by organizned chaos, lost in it.

"It's to look," said Mark, "for the point, even if it's not there. And what you find, you share."

Roger raised his glass. "So here's to Mark, our resident phillosipher and poet!"

Mark bowed.

"I still don't get it..." Doug muttered. "So if you'll just get off the table..."

"I'm afraid we're still unable."

"Then just tell me what the point is, so we can all move on."

"It's music!"

"It's friends!"

"It's the spot light!" Maureen jumped off the table with a flourish.

"It's to comprehend!"

"It's moving!"

"It's danger!"

Mark looked down at Abeth, and held out his hand. Taken back, she looked at it for a moment. Does he really want me to get up on the table? He smiled. She'd never seen him so happy, not like this. Swept up in the beat that pulsed through her, she grabbed his hand and stepped up in the table. She held out her beer bottle and placed a hand on her hip, swinging her hair back.

"It's shacking up with random strangers!"

All the reservations fled her mind as she moved.

"It's Angel!"

"It's learning!"

"It's loosing!"

"It's yearning!"

"So, to sum it all up?" Doug asked. He pretended to be impaitent, but each one of them could see how closely he watched them all spin around the table.

Suddenly, Mark lifted Abeth up in his arms. Her heart stopped. The beat stopped. Time stopped.

"It's us!" cried Mark, smiling down at his friend.

Collins jumped up on the table as Mark set Abby down. "We're the fucking point!"

Doug nodded. "Very good, then." He looked around. "The chances you'll be paying the bill?"

Collins pretended to mull the question over. "Nil."

What I want you to take: Pretty much a really sad re-write of LVB. Maureen has a new stage manager, Toby, and Mark and Abeth played footsie. Abeth go to dance on the tables and we saw Benny for the first time.

AN: Please don't make fun of my sad rhymes. I tried.