A/N: Just to clear things out, disclaimer-wise, I shamelessly borrowed a scene from the movie Kissing Jessica Stein. I changed it here and there, but originally it's not mine. The chapter's title and some lyrics below are from Cabaret. Enjoy! Please review!

20- Maybe This Time

"No."

Joanne shook her head, sighing desperately. "Maureen, please don't make it harder than it already is."

"I don't understand. How can you say that to me?" she asked. It felt as if the room was closing in on her. Her heart was beating twice as fast than it normally did. Her nerves were running wild, making her dizzy. She had to sit down.

"Honey, calm down and just listen to what I have to say. You know I'm right," Joanne said, her voice calm and even. Her face remained pretty much expressionless, although the sadness was clearly reflected in her eyes.

"Why?" she whispered.

Joanne sat by her side. "Because it's not working," she said softly.

She promised she'd let Joanne speak, but listening to all that, she couldn't remain indifferent. She had to make her voice heard. "What do you mean? How can you say that? Can't we just talk about this?" she asked brokenly, her voice shaking, her eyes filled with tears.

"Honey, we talk all the time," Joanne pointed out.

"Well, isn't it a good thing? Conversation is a key to successful relationships!"

"True, but it's not enough."

"What else can you possibly want?" She was actually crying now, but she didn't care. She had never felt so betrayed in her entire life. From the moment she decided to give their relationship a second chance, about three months before, she had done everything she could to make it work. Joanne's decision to break up came so out of the blue, catching her completely off-guard. It felt as if her life was tearing apart in front of her eyes. It seemed she couldn't do much, but watch as it happened.

"I want a relationship. A real one. I want love, and lust, and-"

She stared at Joanne incredulously. She couldn't believe her ears. "Don't we have all that?"

Joanne gave her a reproaching look. "When was the last time we had sex?"

"The last time? I don't… I mean… couple of weeks ago?" she stammered weakly. It was a wild guess. She couldn't believe she didn't remember such a thing. Joanne, on the other hand, seemed to be anticipating her reaction, judging by the look on her face. "But it was good, wasn't it?" she asked, trying to put together the remainders of her lost dignity.

"You drank a whole bottle of wine," Joanne replied, giving her that look again.

"That's not true! I drank one glass, two at most!" she protested.

"Maureen, what we have is a friendship."

Every word stung. She looked at Joanne incredulously. "How can you say that to me? I love you!"

"I love you too, this isn't the issue."

"Well, what is the issue? I've never cheated on you. I thought we had something. We live together, for God's sake, does that mean nothing to you?"

"We're roomies! We're best friends!"

"What's so wrong about that?" she asked desperately. She really couldn't understand what was it she did wrong.

"There's nothing wrong about that, it's just not enough. I want more, and you deserve more."

"I can't believe this is happening," she whispered, looking away. She felt like such a failure.

Joanne sighed, and moved to sit closer before she could resist. "Maureen, you're great. You're pretty and funny and intelligent, and you changed so much in the past year in a way I've never thought you'd be able to." She didn't pull away when Joanne took her hand. "This is painful to me too, but one of us had to end this. I know it sounds cliché, but I'd really like us to remain friends. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you want, I won't kick you out. But this… you and me… this is over."

She couldn't speak. She couldn't do anything. Her silent tears turned into an actual crying as she buried her head in her hands. She had never felt so helpless in her life. She hated it. She couldn't help but thinking back of Roger's words from three months ago; you'll feel much worse if Joanne will be the one who'll end it. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

She didn't even realize she asked that aloud, until she heard Joanne's soft reply. "Well, you can start by listening to your heart." She raised her head, looking at Joanne, her vision blurred with tears. Joanne said nothing; she reached over and pulled her necklace out of its hiding place, behind the collar of her sweater, her fingers lingering on the ring that hung on it. "Go to him. We both know the truth."

She stared at her ex-girlfriend, speechless. She never mentioned anything about it to Joanne before; somehow she always managed to avoid a direct answer regarding the history of the ring. "How did you-"

Joanne laughed softly, slowly letting go of the ring. "Maureen, I'm not stupid, or blind. I simply put two and two together. Always, M? There's only one M I can think of who'd say such a thing to you."

She laughed bitterly and wiped her tears. "He'll never take me back."

Joanne shook her head, her eyes confident. "Yes, he will. If he's smart enough. You won't know until you'll try, right?"

"I guess." She sighed. This emotional outburst of hers left her completely worn-out. "I feel so stupid."

"Don't. This is for the best. You just don't see it yet," said Joanne, caressing her cheek. Even this small motion hurt.

"I gotta get out of here," she murmured, getting up. Joanne said nothing, just nodded and watched her as she slipped into her jacket, grabbed her purse and keys, and left their apartment.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

She wandered through the streets and eventually found herself in the park. She really didn't intend to end up there. She dropped herself on a bench and released a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Her head was throbbing from crying, and there was this pain in her feet; she walked so far so fast, she didn't even realize it. She just had to get away. She found a tissue in her pocket and blew her nose with it. Slowly, gradually, she calmed down.

She couldn't believe it actually happened, that she and Joanne broke up for real. But instead of feeling liberated or relieved, she actually felt kind of bad. She was exhausted from crying, completely drained from energy, and on top of everything else, hopeless and confused. Her mind was racing. She had to look for a place to stay. Joanne said she could stay at the apartment for a while, but she didn't want to do that. It would hurt too much, for both of them. She had some money; she was sure she'd manage to find a decent place for a while. The idea of apartment-hunt was less bothersome at this point. There was this other thing that was bugging her now.

Go to him. We both know the truth.

Joanne's voice echoed in her ears. She couldn't believe she actually told her that, yet at the same time she loved her for that. If anything, it made her more confident about this step she had to take. But what if it was too late to take it? No matter what Joanne said, Mark would never take her back, not after everything that happened. They hardly ever spoke again after Christmas. Whenever she came over to the loft it was mostly to hang out with Roger or Mimi. Mark was hardly around; mostly, he was out looking for footage for his next documentary. When he was home, he either ignored her or treated her coldly. Roger tried to question her about it whenever they were alone, but she always managed to take the conversation elsewhere. There was really no point talking about it.

She took off her necklace and released the ring, toying with it between her fingers. She looked thoughtfully at the inscription, the words that didn't even escape Joanne, but even that didn't seem so promising anymore. What if 'always' was no longer so? Mark was obviously over her, and she seriously believed she was over him too. Apparently, she wasn't. But she wouldn't be able to soften him with a pout or a heart-melting smile. He was definitely over that stage. How was she going to make him change him mind? How could she make him realize she was-

She got up in sudden determination she didn't know she still had. She'd go there and tell him everything. In the worst case, he'd kick her out. She had nothing to lose. Except for her dignity, maybe, but it kind of felt as if she didn't have a lot of it left. Before she could think better of it, she chose the path that led to the loft.

She wasn't there for over a month now. New Years brought new opportunities for all of them. Mimi had just gotten back to the Cat Scratch and was working mostly nights because she was taking some morning courses in the nearby community college. They were all very proud of her for finally following her New Year resolutions. Roger found a job as a bartender. He hated it, but they needed the money after Mark left Buzzline and Collins was away again. She had couple of performances in the pub Roger was working at, which gave her a chance to make some money and practice her material on a live audience. So they were all working their asses off, but at least their lives were finally going back to the right track… or something pretty close to it.

She hesitated by the door, then raised her hand to knock on it. She fidgeted nervously, her hand clutching the ring tightly. There was a soft rustle of approaching feet, then a jingle of keys. She stopped her breath as the door opened.

She stared.

A strange woman was standing on the doorway, looking at her questionably. "Yes?"

It took a moment before she found her way with words again. "I'm, uhh… looking for Mark," she said weakly, her mind racing, trying to figure out who the hell was this woman.

"Sure, come in. Mark? It's for you!" the stranger called. She couldn't make out Mark's reply, from somewhere down the hall.

She stepped in hesitantly, still looking suspiciously at the woman. She looked her age, a bit younger maybe. She looked pretty good, too; big brown eyes, long, honey-colored hair. She felt so dull next to her with her hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail and her swollen, puffy eyes. She was about to inquire who the stranger was when Mark suddenly appeared in the living-room, pulling a T-shirt over his head. She stared at him incredulously as what she had just witnessed quickly sank in. There was only one explanation to this. She lost her chance.

"Mo, what are you doing here?" he asked, approaching her. He seemed surprised to see her there, but not the least embarrassed.

"I needed to…" she started, but soon her voice trailed off. "I see I came in a bad time though," she said, turning her gaze from Mark to the stranger.

Mark didn't seem to get it. "Oh, I don't think you met Nadia yet. Nadia, this is Maureen Johnson, she's a friend of ours. Mo, this is Nadia, she's my-"

"Look, I really gotta go," she cut him off quickly. She didn't think she could handle hearing him say it. Not after everything that already happened that day. He gave her a strange look. "I just… wanted to…" Feeling new tears forming in the corners of her eyes, she thrust the ring into his hands and hurried out. She could hear him calling after her, but she didn't turn back. She had seen enough.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

She had no idea where she was running. It didn't matter, as long as it was as far away from the loft as possible. The wind blew against her face, drying her tears, which was a good thing. She was sick and tired of crying. She didn't want to think about what had just happened there, she just wanted to get away. Deep down, she was scorning herself. Was she really expecting him to sit and wait for her? Why would he, after everything? How could she blame him for finally finding someone else? She really wished him happiness and all that, but… man, speaking of bad timing.

She couldn't run anymore. She leaned against a wall, waiting for her breath to steady. She needed just a moment to take in her surroundings. The Life Café was just around the corner. She didn't want to go in there. She didn't want to risk bumping into someone she knew. A sudden breeze made her snuggle into her jacket. The sun would be down soon. It was getting cold. She'd better get going.

Her feet entangled with something, almost knocking her to the ground. Luckily she held on to the wall before she lost her balance. Letting out a soft curse, she knelt down to release herself from whatever the hell was this thing that was on her way.

Just an old copy of the Village Voice. She was about to kick it out of her way when something in the corner of the page caught her attention. She hesitated for a moment before she took the paper, which was something she would never have done under any other circumstances. She looked at the ad more closely. Cabaret Tour: Audition Day! The red letters announced. The date at the bottom of the ad was right. She glanced at the address. On 42nd street, naturally. She frowned. There was no way she'd get there on time. But then again, what were the odds for her to see this ad on time? On the same day the auditions took place? That must have meant something. Besides… what did she have to lose? Everything else was so fucked up, maybe it meant that Broadway was finally ready for her.

Before she could think better of it, she ripped off the page with the ad, stuffed it in her purse and hurried towards the subway.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

She found the theater pretty easily. She had never been there before. It looked kind of deserted, so she assumed the auditions were over by now. Nonetheless the front door was open, and from where she was standing in the street, she could see a faint light coming from the inside. As she was already late, she thought there was no harm in taking a moment to do something about her messy appearance. She found some makeup in her purse and released her hair from its ponytail, combing it with her fingers to give it some shape. Then, mustering every piece of self-confidence she still had left, she stepped into the theater.

"Hello?" Her voice echoed as she walked in. The cleaning-lady in the lobby said there were still several men in there, although the auditions ended hours ago.

"What can we do for you, young lady?" A voice asked from within the darkness. It was deep and intimidating.

She felt as if she was taken into the principle's office. She hesitated for a moment, knowing what she wanted to say might be considered as pushing her luck, but then she swallowed her fear and flashed a sweet smile in the direction from which the voice came, and said, "I'm here for the auditions."

"I'm sorry, but we got what we wanted for today. You'll have to go back next time."

"Which is when?" she asked kind of innocently.

The voice smirked. "The next production. I would suggest you'll check your watch by then, or you might be late for that one as well."

She wouldn't take offence. She was stronger than that. This was show-business. Her dream. She wouldn't let him scare her off. "I came down here the moment I heard about the auditions. Is it possible to… I dunno, make an exception or something?"

"Honey, if I was to make an exception whenever a young, naïve, wannabe actress missed auditions, we would have ended up way beyond our schedule."

"Yes, I understand that, sir, I just…" her voice trailed off. She just had to face it. She missed another chance. "Thank you for your time," she whispered, turning to go. Tears of frustration burnt in the corners of her eyes.

The faceless voice stopped her just as she was about to go out to the lobby. "What would you like to sing?"

She froze, a slow smile curling on her lips, sending desperation away. Maybe there was still hope. But then the smile faded when she realize she didn't have any song ready. She turned to face the darkness again. "Actually, I didn't-" she started.

There was a chuckle. "So I thought. Why don't you sing us something from the show itself, how about that?" There was a pause. "You do know songs from Cabaret, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she said quietly. She didn't intend to come out that clueless.

"Well, go ahead then. That's Josh down there, by the piano. Why don't we try Don't Tell Mama? That's an easy one, isn't it?"

Ugh. She loved that song. There was something so sassy and seductive about it that fit her perfectly. Today she felt like neither. She doubted she could give them a convincing performance when she felt like shit. But on the other hand… wasn't that what acting was all about? She could do it, she told herself as she walked downstairs and hopped onstage, which was lit by a single spotlight. She smiled at the guy called Josh as the voice in the shadows told him which song they were about to hear, and he quickly found the right music sheet. She had a moment more to get a grip, pull off her best drama queen smile, and do her thing.

She thought she did well when Josh hit the final note. She stood breathless in the middle of the empty stage, looking expectedly into the darkness, trying to make out the face she knew was back there, somewhere. Looking straight ahead was almost impossible, given that spotlight that kept blinding her. There was tensed silence, interrupted only by the sound of flipping pages. Someone lit a cigarette; she could see the momentary flash of light, then the smoke as it melted into the darkness.

"What did you say your name was?" asked the voice, blank and neutral.

Was that a good sign? "I didn't. It's Maureen Johnson," she said, moving her weight from one foot to the other impatiently. She glanced at Josh, but she doubted he knew better than she did as for her chances. It made her feel exposed, just standing there, knowing that they could see her while she couldn't see them.

"Is this your first time in an audition, Maureen?"

"Yes, sir."

"You have absolutely no experience?"

"Well, I perform with my own stuff every now and then, if that counts as experience. Not on Broadway, though." Her heart was racing. Would it ruin her chances?

"Because this was pretty good. Probably better than most girls we heard on this stage today."

Yes! "Thank you, sir," she said. She couldn't stop herself from smiling gratefully.

"Would you mind trying another song for us?"

"Not at all."

"How about Maybe This Time?" Josh was already flipping through his music sheets, looking for the right page. "Whenever you're ready," the voice said.

There was no acting this time. No other song could describe better what she was feeling at the moment. It felt as if every word was written just for her.

Maybe this time I'll be lucky, maybe this time he'll stay

Maybe this time, for the first time, love won't hurry away…

She was gaining more confidence as the song progressed. It was as if all her pain somehow found its way into her singing, making it all the more powerful. Her voice echoed through the theater, surrounding her, filling her with new confidence. The words couldn't have been more precise.

Everybody loves a winner so nobody loves me

Lady Peaceful, Lady Happy- that's what I long to be

All the odds are in my favor, something's bound to begin

It's gotta happen, happen sometime, maybe this time

Maybe this time I'll win…

Again, this hateful silence. It brought back doubt and uncertainties. Did she suck? It didn't feel like it. She really had something she could base herself on, unlike the previous song he asked her to do. Jeez, why wouldn't he say something?

"Well, Miss Johnson," said the voice. She tensed and looked into the darkness once again. "Officially I'm not allowed to say anything before the results next week, but unofficially…" She held her breath. "Welcome to Broadway."

A squeal escaped her before she could hold it back. She felt like running up there to give him a hug, but the last thing she wanted was screwing up her chances again. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so much."

"Leave your name and phone number with my secretary and we'll contact you about rehearsals' schedule." The voice sounded closer now, as a bald, small man stepped into the light. He didn't look as intimidating as his voice sounded. She felt silly for letting his voice have such an affect on her in the first place. She waved goodbye to Josh and hopped offstage, to meet the man halfway. "Good luck," he said, a small, almost unnoticeable smile visible in the corner of his lips.

"Thank you," she smiled back and hurried outside.

She stepped out to the street again, where the sun was slowly descending, coloring the sky in soft, almost blinding shade of orange. She felt like dancing. The remainders of sadness quickly faded into happiness, satisfaction, hope. Her lips curled into a huge grin as she ran all the way home.

Maybe this time she'd win.