March 18, 1995
Journal-
Tell me honestly: am I a selfish person? Am I stingy with whatever money I may have? Do I ignore the needs of others while dwelling over my own wants? I didn't think so either. But today I learned that my best friend in the entire world has destroyed himself because of my selfishness.
Sasha Fermot, I've written a couple of things about him, right? Well, he's been my best friend since I can remember. He raised me on these streets. But ever since I've met Collins, me and him haven't exactly talked much. Just the other day though, I got a call from Shelby, another one of my older friends, saying that he needed to talk to me ASAP. There was something wrong with Sasha. -
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Angel sat idly on the hard bed, reading a magazine and basking in the sunlight that streamed through the tiny window cracks. Storm clouds had gathered around the farthest edge of the horizon, so he had grabbed the sunbeam while it was still out. Collins was out grocery shopping with what little money they had, Mark was out getting shots for his film, and Roger and Mimi were out somewhere on a walk. Only Angel was left in the loft.
Collins had tried to convince him to join him shopping, but in all honestly, Angel had just wanted to sit and think for a little while. Ever since that last Christmas when he had met the brawny teacher and his friends, everything had been running along so fast in his life that the drag queen was having trouble keeping up. His own exotic transvestite friends had seemed to fade into the background of his life. Occasionally he talked with Shelby, or ate lunch with Sasha. But somehow, they're own wild parties and throb-music dance clubs didn't interest him anymore. Angel had even once turned down an invitation to one of his favorite dance places to sit at home and watch a couple of rented movies with Collins.
Sasha had always said that love was when you'd rather do nothing with someone than go do the best thing in the world with anyone else. Still, Angel got the feeling that the sassy drag queen was feeling a bit ignored. And if there was one thing in the world Angel knew Sasha didn't like, it was being ignored.
Bring!! Bring!! Bring!!
The telephone began to ring off its hook, and the sound pulsated through Angel's ears. His first instinct was to screen, but finally the harsh sound drove him to the telephone.
"Hello?"
"Hi. Is an Angel Schunard there?"
"I'm him. Who's this?"
"Angel?"
"Hi Shelby!"
Angel smiled, and shifted the telephone to his other ear. Shelby was the youngest in his old group of friends, and Sasha's second to apprentice. Shelby had been the shy one, with a small blush that would spread from the rose of his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Laughing and good-natured, Angel always enjoyed talking to him. However rarely that chance comes, these days, he thought to himself.
"Angel-I've been trying to reach you for a while." The voice on the other end didn't sound like the light Shelby Angel knew, and instantly it was clear something was wrong. "Have you seen Sasha in a while?"
"No, I haven't. I've been really busy."
"Angel, there's something wrong with him. But I don't know what. All of a sudden it's-'I can't, I've got other things to do.' And things like that."
"Maybe he really does have something else to do."
"No, it can't be that. I've never seen him like this. I tried getting to his apartment, but the door was locked."
Angel bit his lower lip in concern, then said into the receiver: "Listen, I'll head over to his place and talk to him. I'm his best friend, right? Of course right."
With that, he hung up with a click.
Scribbling a small note to Collins explaining where he was going, Angel ran out the door.
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I couldn't help but wonder what I'd find when I got to Sasha's. A boyfriend? What could make Sasha act the way Shelby described? I don't think I was ready for what I found when I got there.
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Thump!! Thump!! Thump!!
"Sasha? It's me, Angel, open up."
Angel pounded on the wooden door, straining to hear any sound from a resident inside. Finally, a familiar vodka voice rang from the interior.
"Go away."
The drag queen was taken aback. Never had he received such a cruel refusal. Again, he hit the door with his fist.
"Sasha, let me in!"
"I said go away."
"Sasha-"
Another thud, and the door fell wide open. Angel took a deep breath, and walked in.
All around him were clothes and various articles of things lying on the floor. He looked towards the bed, and found Sasha sitting on it, avoiding his gaze. Scattered on the table beside the bed were scattered plastic bags filled with white powder and other similar substances. A cigarette hovered in his pale hand, dark painted nails wrapped around the stick. The entire place smelled like cigarette smoke and crack. A wave of nausea flooded Angel's nostrils as he let his gaze travel to Sasha's slumped form. Always the elder drag queen had been vibrant, mysterious, and gorgeous with his slim figure and mane of curly hair so artistically braided behind his elegant neck. Now though, Sasha looked a wreck with smudged mascara and hollow eyes. A strange bruise lingered on his right cheek.
"Jesus Christ!"
"Didn't I tell you not to come in?"
"Sasha, what the fuck is all this?"
Sasha arose from his slumped position, and got up to look at Angel.
"What does it look like it is-pixie stick powder?"
"Please tell me you're just kidding."
"What, tell you that it isn't what it looks like? Sorry babe, it is."
"Sasha, what the hell are you doing with this sort of shit?"
"That is by far the most fucked up question I've ever heard."
Sasha looked at Angel, his violet eyes flashing all over. The cigarette in his hand was dropped onto the floor, and one high-heeled boot stepped on it silently. Everything about him seemed different. This wasn't the best friend Angel knew.
"Lemme guess, Shelby called you."
"Yeah, and it's a good thing too."
"For who? You didn't have to come. You coulda stayed home all nice and happy."
Angel's voice began to waver as he took in the cocaine bottles, and various needles lying around. Finally his voice broke at the sight of track marks up and down Sasha's left arm.
"Why didn't you just come for help Sasha?"
"You tell me."
"What the fuck does any of your doing these goddamn drugs have to do with me?"
A slice of lightening split outside, and the crash seemed to echo throughout the building. Sasha ran his tongue over his teeth and looked evenly at Angel.
"What do you care anyway?" A previously strong voice began shaking slightly as he shifted weight and looked at Angel angrily. "Why the fuck would you care about what I do with my time? You're too busy playing tonsil hockey with that new boyfriend of yours. Listen to me, I don't wanna here no sad story about you not meaning to leave your best friend all alone. Because I'm not an idiot Angel, despite how goddamn screwed up you think I am. You can go ahead and do whatever you want now, don't worry. So just go home and leave my life alone."
"Sasha!" Angel looked at his friend, standing there with his tight clothing and injured expression masked over fury. "I didn't mean to."
"Yeah, I'm sure about that one."
"I'm serious!"
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I had been ignoring my old friends for Collins. I knew it, and couldn't stand it. Nobody ever wants to betray his own best friend, but how could I help it. Maybe we were just drifting apart. But that doesn't mean I didn't want to be friends with Sasha and the others any more. I knew then, my own selfishness had driven Sasha to the powder solace, and all the oblivion and destruction that came with it. You'll never know what guilt feels like until you rob a person's life of its vitality.
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Sasha shook his head and smiled malevolently. "You don't understand. We're just second best now Angel. Why don't you just go back to your Collins, and leave me alone."
"I want to help!"
"Fine. You want to help, here. Sit down."
Sasha pushed Angel down onto the bed, and dug through a small bag until he came up with what he was looking for. A small bottle and needle sat in his hand.
"Fill this up to about ¾ of the way up. Then give it to me."
"But-"
"Just do it!"
Angel did as Sasha ordered him to, and then handed the needle to Sasha.
"The standard for this stuff is ¼ of the way up. Anything more than that is an overdose."
Realization dawned on Angel too late, as Sasha buried the needle into his wrist and injected the vile liquid. A second went by, before finally the elder drag queen looked up to face Angel. Violet eyes began brimming over with a sea of salty tears, and one slid down his face.
"There, you just helped. I wouldn't have been able to fill it up myself. Damn conscience."
"Sasha-"
Angel sobbed softly, and reached for Sasha, hugging him warmly for a moment before drawing back to look at his friend-wasting away as he was. Slowly, the drug began to take its toll, and the violet eyes warmed, then fogged over. Slowly, Sasha let his head fall into Angel's lap, as the other boy stroked his hair silently.
"I'm so sorry Sasha. I'm so, so sorry."
Not another word passed between them until finally a brief wash of freezing air fell upon the two, and Sasha's life was torn away from his body. Only then did the accumulating tears in Sasha's lifeless eyes fall.
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He's dead. My dearest friend is dead because of me. My world went upside down and in half. Sasha Fermot, the best drag queen in New York, was dead because of his selfish, conceited best friend who didn't deserve to call himself an acquaintance of Sasha. It wasn't fair. I couldn't imagine that I would have ever made it to nineteen without Sasha there to take care of me and clean after my thoughtless messes. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.
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Collins arrived home with about half a bag full of cereal and canned vegetables.
"I'm home! Roger? Mark? Angel? Anybody here?"
The silence stunned Collins. He figured at least Angel would be hanging around the house now. But not a thing stirred except the pitter-patter of rain against the roof. Finally, a note caught his eye, lying on the counter. It read:
Collins-
Gone to Sasha's. Don't worry. Be back by five.
345 23rd street. Apartment 3b.
-Angel.
Collins nodded, and looked at his watch. It was two minutes to six. Slowly he looked at the address again. Maybe he should just stop by to see what was keeping Angel. Pocketing the note, he re-buttoned his coat, and hurried out the door.
Angel's reverie was broken by the sound of someone knocking on Sasha's door. Softly, he muttered.
"Come in."
"Angel?"
Collins entered the room, sopping wet from the pouring rain out there. Angel looked up; his cheeks stained with tear streaks. Never had Collins looked so welcoming. The ex-teacher walked over to where he sat, looked around, and saw the drugs.
"Angel, what's-"
"It's not me Collins. I swear it isn't. I came because there was something wrong with Sasha, and he-"
"Was dead?"
"No, he accused me of being selfish, and ignoring all my friends for you. Then he told me to fill up the needle to ¾, and injected it in. The maximum is ¼, and he overdosed, and-"
"Sh baby, it's okay…" Collins cradled Angel to his chest softly, stroking his cheek. The drag queen had rested Sasha down onto the pillows before, and now curled up in a little ball, huddled against Collins.
"Sasha-"
"There was nothing you could do. He was unhappy baby. It isn't your fault."
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That was a load of bull, and Collins knew it. It was my fault. My fault Sasha started taking the drugs, my fault Sasha overdosed. My fault Sasha died. Saying there was nothing I could have done was a blatant lie. There was so much I could've done to save him. Things that I could have done and didn't because I was too busy with my "new friends" to pay attention to how Sasha would take it.
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Collins helped Angel up, and looked at him squarely, placing hands on the younger boy's shoulders and staring into the watery amber eyes with a loving gaze.
"It's all gonna be alright. You'll see Angel. I promise."
"What am I going to tell Shelby? And Cor, and Lee, and Janice, and everyone else?"
"The truth."
"But the truth-"
"Is the best thing you can tell them."
Sensible, smart, reliable Collins took Angel's hand and held it in his own silently for a moment, before leading him out of the smoke filled room. With one last look at Sasha's limp form, Angel walked out of the room.
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I don't deserve Collins. He always knows just what to do, and just what to say. It hurt like hell, losing Sasha, but with Collins' sweet comfort I somehow managed to make it through. When we got home from Sasha's, my baby didn't say anything, but let me sit in our room for a little bit and cry until I fell asleep. I didn't wake up again until late that night. Collins was already curled up next to me. Fast asleep I figured. Roger talked to me a little bit about when he lost April to drug over dosage. It seemed like the first time me and him had really talked. Ever since I had started being with Collins, I guess Collins was sort of leaving all of his friends to be with me. I had always gotten the feeling that Roger was a little icy towards me.
Things work out funny, huh? I just hope I get forgiven for what I did to Sasha. None of my old friends really talk to me anymore, too cut up about their fearless leader's untimely death. Only Shelby sometimes managed to invite me with them to go places, and more and more I found myself turning those offers down. Finally, even Shelby has stopped calling, except for on holidays and such. I can't say I don't miss the old way I used to live, but I wouldn't trade what I've got now for anything.
I just can't help but wonder how long my happiness with Collins is gonna last.
-Angel D. Schunard
Journal-
Tell me honestly: am I a selfish person? Am I stingy with whatever money I may have? Do I ignore the needs of others while dwelling over my own wants? I didn't think so either. But today I learned that my best friend in the entire world has destroyed himself because of my selfishness.
Sasha Fermot, I've written a couple of things about him, right? Well, he's been my best friend since I can remember. He raised me on these streets. But ever since I've met Collins, me and him haven't exactly talked much. Just the other day though, I got a call from Shelby, another one of my older friends, saying that he needed to talk to me ASAP. There was something wrong with Sasha. -
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Angel sat idly on the hard bed, reading a magazine and basking in the sunlight that streamed through the tiny window cracks. Storm clouds had gathered around the farthest edge of the horizon, so he had grabbed the sunbeam while it was still out. Collins was out grocery shopping with what little money they had, Mark was out getting shots for his film, and Roger and Mimi were out somewhere on a walk. Only Angel was left in the loft.
Collins had tried to convince him to join him shopping, but in all honestly, Angel had just wanted to sit and think for a little while. Ever since that last Christmas when he had met the brawny teacher and his friends, everything had been running along so fast in his life that the drag queen was having trouble keeping up. His own exotic transvestite friends had seemed to fade into the background of his life. Occasionally he talked with Shelby, or ate lunch with Sasha. But somehow, they're own wild parties and throb-music dance clubs didn't interest him anymore. Angel had even once turned down an invitation to one of his favorite dance places to sit at home and watch a couple of rented movies with Collins.
Sasha had always said that love was when you'd rather do nothing with someone than go do the best thing in the world with anyone else. Still, Angel got the feeling that the sassy drag queen was feeling a bit ignored. And if there was one thing in the world Angel knew Sasha didn't like, it was being ignored.
Bring!! Bring!! Bring!!
The telephone began to ring off its hook, and the sound pulsated through Angel's ears. His first instinct was to screen, but finally the harsh sound drove him to the telephone.
"Hello?"
"Hi. Is an Angel Schunard there?"
"I'm him. Who's this?"
"Angel?"
"Hi Shelby!"
Angel smiled, and shifted the telephone to his other ear. Shelby was the youngest in his old group of friends, and Sasha's second to apprentice. Shelby had been the shy one, with a small blush that would spread from the rose of his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Laughing and good-natured, Angel always enjoyed talking to him. However rarely that chance comes, these days, he thought to himself.
"Angel-I've been trying to reach you for a while." The voice on the other end didn't sound like the light Shelby Angel knew, and instantly it was clear something was wrong. "Have you seen Sasha in a while?"
"No, I haven't. I've been really busy."
"Angel, there's something wrong with him. But I don't know what. All of a sudden it's-'I can't, I've got other things to do.' And things like that."
"Maybe he really does have something else to do."
"No, it can't be that. I've never seen him like this. I tried getting to his apartment, but the door was locked."
Angel bit his lower lip in concern, then said into the receiver: "Listen, I'll head over to his place and talk to him. I'm his best friend, right? Of course right."
With that, he hung up with a click.
Scribbling a small note to Collins explaining where he was going, Angel ran out the door.
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I couldn't help but wonder what I'd find when I got to Sasha's. A boyfriend? What could make Sasha act the way Shelby described? I don't think I was ready for what I found when I got there.
------------------------------------------------------------
Thump!! Thump!! Thump!!
"Sasha? It's me, Angel, open up."
Angel pounded on the wooden door, straining to hear any sound from a resident inside. Finally, a familiar vodka voice rang from the interior.
"Go away."
The drag queen was taken aback. Never had he received such a cruel refusal. Again, he hit the door with his fist.
"Sasha, let me in!"
"I said go away."
"Sasha-"
Another thud, and the door fell wide open. Angel took a deep breath, and walked in.
All around him were clothes and various articles of things lying on the floor. He looked towards the bed, and found Sasha sitting on it, avoiding his gaze. Scattered on the table beside the bed were scattered plastic bags filled with white powder and other similar substances. A cigarette hovered in his pale hand, dark painted nails wrapped around the stick. The entire place smelled like cigarette smoke and crack. A wave of nausea flooded Angel's nostrils as he let his gaze travel to Sasha's slumped form. Always the elder drag queen had been vibrant, mysterious, and gorgeous with his slim figure and mane of curly hair so artistically braided behind his elegant neck. Now though, Sasha looked a wreck with smudged mascara and hollow eyes. A strange bruise lingered on his right cheek.
"Jesus Christ!"
"Didn't I tell you not to come in?"
"Sasha, what the fuck is all this?"
Sasha arose from his slumped position, and got up to look at Angel.
"What does it look like it is-pixie stick powder?"
"Please tell me you're just kidding."
"What, tell you that it isn't what it looks like? Sorry babe, it is."
"Sasha, what the hell are you doing with this sort of shit?"
"That is by far the most fucked up question I've ever heard."
Sasha looked at Angel, his violet eyes flashing all over. The cigarette in his hand was dropped onto the floor, and one high-heeled boot stepped on it silently. Everything about him seemed different. This wasn't the best friend Angel knew.
"Lemme guess, Shelby called you."
"Yeah, and it's a good thing too."
"For who? You didn't have to come. You coulda stayed home all nice and happy."
Angel's voice began to waver as he took in the cocaine bottles, and various needles lying around. Finally his voice broke at the sight of track marks up and down Sasha's left arm.
"Why didn't you just come for help Sasha?"
"You tell me."
"What the fuck does any of your doing these goddamn drugs have to do with me?"
A slice of lightening split outside, and the crash seemed to echo throughout the building. Sasha ran his tongue over his teeth and looked evenly at Angel.
"What do you care anyway?" A previously strong voice began shaking slightly as he shifted weight and looked at Angel angrily. "Why the fuck would you care about what I do with my time? You're too busy playing tonsil hockey with that new boyfriend of yours. Listen to me, I don't wanna here no sad story about you not meaning to leave your best friend all alone. Because I'm not an idiot Angel, despite how goddamn screwed up you think I am. You can go ahead and do whatever you want now, don't worry. So just go home and leave my life alone."
"Sasha!" Angel looked at his friend, standing there with his tight clothing and injured expression masked over fury. "I didn't mean to."
"Yeah, I'm sure about that one."
"I'm serious!"
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I had been ignoring my old friends for Collins. I knew it, and couldn't stand it. Nobody ever wants to betray his own best friend, but how could I help it. Maybe we were just drifting apart. But that doesn't mean I didn't want to be friends with Sasha and the others any more. I knew then, my own selfishness had driven Sasha to the powder solace, and all the oblivion and destruction that came with it. You'll never know what guilt feels like until you rob a person's life of its vitality.
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Sasha shook his head and smiled malevolently. "You don't understand. We're just second best now Angel. Why don't you just go back to your Collins, and leave me alone."
"I want to help!"
"Fine. You want to help, here. Sit down."
Sasha pushed Angel down onto the bed, and dug through a small bag until he came up with what he was looking for. A small bottle and needle sat in his hand.
"Fill this up to about ¾ of the way up. Then give it to me."
"But-"
"Just do it!"
Angel did as Sasha ordered him to, and then handed the needle to Sasha.
"The standard for this stuff is ¼ of the way up. Anything more than that is an overdose."
Realization dawned on Angel too late, as Sasha buried the needle into his wrist and injected the vile liquid. A second went by, before finally the elder drag queen looked up to face Angel. Violet eyes began brimming over with a sea of salty tears, and one slid down his face.
"There, you just helped. I wouldn't have been able to fill it up myself. Damn conscience."
"Sasha-"
Angel sobbed softly, and reached for Sasha, hugging him warmly for a moment before drawing back to look at his friend-wasting away as he was. Slowly, the drug began to take its toll, and the violet eyes warmed, then fogged over. Slowly, Sasha let his head fall into Angel's lap, as the other boy stroked his hair silently.
"I'm so sorry Sasha. I'm so, so sorry."
Not another word passed between them until finally a brief wash of freezing air fell upon the two, and Sasha's life was torn away from his body. Only then did the accumulating tears in Sasha's lifeless eyes fall.
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He's dead. My dearest friend is dead because of me. My world went upside down and in half. Sasha Fermot, the best drag queen in New York, was dead because of his selfish, conceited best friend who didn't deserve to call himself an acquaintance of Sasha. It wasn't fair. I couldn't imagine that I would have ever made it to nineteen without Sasha there to take care of me and clean after my thoughtless messes. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.
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Collins arrived home with about half a bag full of cereal and canned vegetables.
"I'm home! Roger? Mark? Angel? Anybody here?"
The silence stunned Collins. He figured at least Angel would be hanging around the house now. But not a thing stirred except the pitter-patter of rain against the roof. Finally, a note caught his eye, lying on the counter. It read:
Collins-
Gone to Sasha's. Don't worry. Be back by five.
345 23rd street. Apartment 3b.
-Angel.
Collins nodded, and looked at his watch. It was two minutes to six. Slowly he looked at the address again. Maybe he should just stop by to see what was keeping Angel. Pocketing the note, he re-buttoned his coat, and hurried out the door.
Angel's reverie was broken by the sound of someone knocking on Sasha's door. Softly, he muttered.
"Come in."
"Angel?"
Collins entered the room, sopping wet from the pouring rain out there. Angel looked up; his cheeks stained with tear streaks. Never had Collins looked so welcoming. The ex-teacher walked over to where he sat, looked around, and saw the drugs.
"Angel, what's-"
"It's not me Collins. I swear it isn't. I came because there was something wrong with Sasha, and he-"
"Was dead?"
"No, he accused me of being selfish, and ignoring all my friends for you. Then he told me to fill up the needle to ¾, and injected it in. The maximum is ¼, and he overdosed, and-"
"Sh baby, it's okay…" Collins cradled Angel to his chest softly, stroking his cheek. The drag queen had rested Sasha down onto the pillows before, and now curled up in a little ball, huddled against Collins.
"Sasha-"
"There was nothing you could do. He was unhappy baby. It isn't your fault."
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That was a load of bull, and Collins knew it. It was my fault. My fault Sasha started taking the drugs, my fault Sasha overdosed. My fault Sasha died. Saying there was nothing I could have done was a blatant lie. There was so much I could've done to save him. Things that I could have done and didn't because I was too busy with my "new friends" to pay attention to how Sasha would take it.
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Collins helped Angel up, and looked at him squarely, placing hands on the younger boy's shoulders and staring into the watery amber eyes with a loving gaze.
"It's all gonna be alright. You'll see Angel. I promise."
"What am I going to tell Shelby? And Cor, and Lee, and Janice, and everyone else?"
"The truth."
"But the truth-"
"Is the best thing you can tell them."
Sensible, smart, reliable Collins took Angel's hand and held it in his own silently for a moment, before leading him out of the smoke filled room. With one last look at Sasha's limp form, Angel walked out of the room.
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I don't deserve Collins. He always knows just what to do, and just what to say. It hurt like hell, losing Sasha, but with Collins' sweet comfort I somehow managed to make it through. When we got home from Sasha's, my baby didn't say anything, but let me sit in our room for a little bit and cry until I fell asleep. I didn't wake up again until late that night. Collins was already curled up next to me. Fast asleep I figured. Roger talked to me a little bit about when he lost April to drug over dosage. It seemed like the first time me and him had really talked. Ever since I had started being with Collins, I guess Collins was sort of leaving all of his friends to be with me. I had always gotten the feeling that Roger was a little icy towards me.
Things work out funny, huh? I just hope I get forgiven for what I did to Sasha. None of my old friends really talk to me anymore, too cut up about their fearless leader's untimely death. Only Shelby sometimes managed to invite me with them to go places, and more and more I found myself turning those offers down. Finally, even Shelby has stopped calling, except for on holidays and such. I can't say I don't miss the old way I used to live, but I wouldn't trade what I've got now for anything.
I just can't help but wonder how long my happiness with Collins is gonna last.
-Angel D. Schunard