Disclaimer: Only Karalynn is mine- the rest belong to Jonathan Larson. But of course, everyone knew that. This has got to be the worst chapter yet- but I promise it'll get better as the story continues. Remember, Roger still hates her! Oh and the reason for the title will be clear at the very, very end! Thanks for r/r!
(By the way, I don't live on the east coast so I have no idea where anything is! So if I make a few mistakes I would appreciate some help!)


Ch. 3- Holding the World

Mark looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and pushed up his glasses.
He frowned.
"Why do I even bother?" he said out loud. "I'll never look like the type of guy that should be with someone like her."
"But you are with her." Collins called out from outside.
Mark grinned at his reflection.
"Yes I am." he said, feeling his heart grow lighter. He looked down and tugged at the polo shirt he was wearing. Karalynn had given it back to him a week after he had bumped into her. Three days after she had called him, nearly giving him a heart attack.
That had been two months ago.
Mark turned around and walked out of the bathroom. Collins and Mimi were sitting on the couch and when Mimi saw Mark, she got to her feet and clapped her hands together.
"Mark, look at you! You look great!" she exclaimed. "So is tonight the night I finally get to meet her?"
Mark grinned and nodded, sitting down on top of the table.
"Yeah." he said, looking at her. "I finally convinced Karalynn to come up to the loft again. I told her Roger was gonna be in band practice until midnight." He shrugged and picked up his camera, looking back down. "They still don't like each other."
Mimi laughed and sat down next to him, putting one slim, tanned arm around his waist.
She had gotten off of work early just to meet Karalynn. Mark appreciated it and he leaned his head against her thick, black curls.
"Honey, you know how Roger is." she said. "You know how he is with people. The way he describes her, I keep imagining she'll have horns on her head and a pitchfork up her ass."
Mark and Collins laughed and Mimi smiled at them.
"Actually what I think he said was- Mark's dating that stuck up bitch from hell." Collins said with a twist of his mouth. "But I'm sure he meant it in the nicest way possible." He added when Mark frowned.
"She's not like that." Mark said, looking up. His blue eyes twinkled out from behind his glasses. "I mean she was when I first met her but even then, there was something else about her. Something different. She makes me happy."
Mimi drew away a little and looked at his face.
Mark was happy.
Happier than she had ever seen him to be. She knew Roger spent more time with her than he did with Mark and it made her feel guilty sometimes, knowing that he was alone in the loft while she and Roger were downstairs, holding each other. But ever since he had met Karalynn, something changed inside of him. He smiled more often, even when he thought no one was looking. He didn't hide in his room as often and he actually looked healthier.
"Then I'm happy for you, sweetie." she said. "This girl must really be something."
Just then they all heard a knock on the door and Mark jumped off the table, leaving his camera there.
"This girl is really here." Collins said with a smile. Mark smiled back and when he flung the door open, his smile grew bigger.
He threw his arms around her, pulling Karalynn into a tight embrace and for a few minutes all Mimi could see was a slim figure covered by Mark. And then he let her go and Karalynn looked up.
She wore a sleek expensive looking black pantsuit and her hair was tied back neatly away from her face. For a moment, her pale cheeks were pink and flushed from both the cold and Mark's grasp. She was only a little shorter than Mark and Mimi could tell they made perfect fit.
Karalynn's eyes traveled over Mark's body and she smiled in surprise. He wore his black slacks and dress shoes.
"You dressed up!"
Mark blushed and pushed his glasses up with one finger. "Yeah, well..." he said, slightly embarrassed.
"You didn't have to." she said seriously.
Mark shrugged and grinned at her. "I wanted to." he said. "After all, what's everyone gonna think when they see me dressed in rags next to you?"
Karalynn rolled her eyes and laughed. Mimi walked over towards them.
"You're a lot prettier than Mark said you'd be." she said. Karalynn looked up and smiled.
"You must be Mimi." she said, holding out her hand.
Mimi hit Karalynn's hand away lightly and drew her into a warm embrace. Karalynn looked up at Mark, alarmed and Mark winked at her.
"That's what they call me." Mimi said smiling, when she finally let her go. "And you're Karalynn. I've heard a lot about you."
Karalynn glanced at Mark and he took her hand and squeezed it tightly. "All good things from me." he said. He led her further into the loft and picked up his camera, jacket and scarf.
"So where are you kids headed off to?" Collins asked. Mimi bounded back to the couch next to him and looked up at them.
"Yeah, why the fancy shmancy clothes?" she asked.
"Fancy shmancy?" Mark repeated. He laughed and looked at Karalynn. "We're going to some fancy shmancy dinner party held by Karalynn's fancy shmancy college friends."
Karalynn made a face. "Those people are not my friends." she said. "I just have to network for an hour and then we can leave." She looked down at her silver watch and sighed. "We have to go or we'll be late. It was nice meeting you, Mimi."
"Nice meeting you too, Karalynn."
Mimi waved at them as they walked out of the loft.
"She's not mean." Mimi said, turning to Collins. "So why does Roger hate her again?"


Mark had never felt more embarrassed or awkward in his life.
Everywhere around him, young successful people in nice clothing talked about their budding careers and bright futures.
They all ignored him.
Even Karalynn had left him.
Even the kid who taken his jacket and scarf at the coat table looked disdainfully at his clothing.
He stood stiffly in a corner, trying not to look up as he tinkered with his camera and felt painfully aware that his entire outfit cost less than the food on the table.
Karalynn hadn't seem to mind.
But.. where was she?
He looked up at the thought of her and watched her talking to a group of young handsome men in suits.
He felt his breath shorten.
Was she flirting with them?
They all seem captivated by her. All of them wore huge silly grins on their faces.
Mark's mind suddenly flashed back to the thought of Maureen and he couldn't help but remember the way he felt when she found him in his bed with...
He shook his head.
No.
He studied Karalynn's face. She wore a serious, distant expression on her face. The one he had seen her wear when she was studying across from him in the cafe. It was the same expression she wore when she lectured. He had captured that look on film before and studied it a million times. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she wasn't smiling when she spoke.
No.
She wasn't flirting. Mark breathed a sigh of relief and aimed his camera at her.
"Look at her." he said into his camera quietly. "Look at the way they look at her. I can't believe she's here with me. I can't believe she even exists. She tells me that I hold her too tightly sometimes and it's because I'm afraid that if I don't hold her tightly enough, she'll disappear..."
Suddenly Mark heard her name spoken and he jerked his head towards a man and a woman talking next to him. He pretended he didn't notice and tried to listen to their conversation.
"God, she's gorgeous." the man said. "I can't believe that little pipsqueak of a boy is her boyfriend."
"Yeah he is." the woman said. "He's supposedly a filmmaker. But I can tell that he's just another one of those good for nothing starving artist types."
"A filmmaker? With that nasty old camera?" The man chuckled. "How long do you think that'll last?"
"The camera or the relationship?" They both laughed and the woman replied.
"I give her one more month to realize what a loser he is." she said. "I mean, she's first class and he isn't even good enough to travel coach. At least she'll be earning her degree soon. I hear Stanford's offered her a full time teaching position in their psych. department."
"Right, I heard that too. So she'll be going to California after May?"
"As far as I know. And by then I'm sure that she'll have dumped the Salvation Army poster boy."
Mark stopped listening.
He stopped filming.
He could barely see through his tears anyway.
Without even looking up he walked across the room and out into the lobby of the hotel where the party was being held.
Karalynn saw him as he brushed past her and she looked after him, confused.
"Uh, excuse me." she said, smiling briefly at the group. "I have to go ... check up on someone."
She ran out of the room despite their protests and saw Mark arguing with the coat check boy.
"Just give me my damn jacket!" he cried out.
"No ticket, no jacket." the boy said firmly.
Karalynn walked up next to Mark and touched his arm.
"Hey, what's going..." she began but Mark jerked away from her. She stared at his face in shock.
His pale cheeks were wet with tears and she was stunned.
"What did I do?" she asked. "What happened, Mark?"
"Nothing." he spat out at her. "You're perfect! You can't do anything wrong!"
Before she could even open her mouth to speak he turned around and ran out of the lobby and onto the street.
Karalynn turned to the coat boy. "Give me his coat and scarf." she demanded.
The coat boy shook his head. "Look lady, like I told that guy..."
Before he knew what had happened, Karalynn had reached over the counter, grabbed his collar and had dragged him onto the countertop.
"Look little boy," she said in a dangerous voice. The coat boy looked up at her with wide, frightened eyes. He had never seen anyone, much less a woman, look so pissed off. "You are fucking with the wrong person. Give. Me. His. Coat. And. Scarf. Or. I will...."
The coat boy nodded frantically and she let him go. In less than five seconds, he handed her Mark's belongings and she grabbed them, hurrying out of the lobby like lightning.

"Mark!"
Mark ignored her and continued to walk down the street. He was aware that he was probably miles away from home but he didn't care.
He just had to get away.
"Mark, dammit! Stop!"
He kept walking.
He heard the clacking of her high heels on the pavement and wasn't surprised when she caught up with him.
"Mark, what happened!?" she yelled. She grabbed his arm and he pulled it away.
"Nothing." he mumbled. He tightened his grip on his camera and tried to ignore the pain the wind caused against his tear streaked cheeks. "Just go back to your happy little dinner party."
"Shit Mark, don't pull this on me!" she cried out. She struggled to keep up with him in her heels. "I have no idea why you're acting so shitty so the least you could do is give me a fucking explanation!"
Mark stopped walking and faced her.
"I heard what those people in there were saying about me and you." he said. He felt his chest tighten up with pain as he looked at her. "I know what your friends think of me."
"So what?" she said, sounding annoyed. "I told you, those people are not.."
"So when were you planning on telling me you were moving to California?" he asked. He saw the way her face froze and knew it was true.
"How did you..."
"I heard it through the fucking grapevine." he said bitterly. "So when were you gonna spring that little number up on me? A month before you left? A week? Or were you just gonna write me a good old 'Dear Mark' letter? I've had people run out on me before. I know how it goes." He straightened up and glared at her through his tears. "So what am I to you, Karalynn? A little bit of fun before you head off?"
"Fuck you, Mark."
"Is that why I haven't even seen the inside of your apartment?" he asked angrily. "Or why I barely know shit about your past? I told you almost everything about me. Are you just playing some fucked up mind game on me?"
"No!" she yelled. She threw his coat and scarf at him with so much force, he almost dropped his camera. "This isn't a game!"
"Then what is it?!" Mark yelled back, surprising himself. "What am I to you!?"
She stared at him and for a moment he thought she was going to start screaming at him. But she didn't. When she spoke next, her quiet, sad voice surprised him.
"What am I to you, Mark?"
"That's not fair." he said sullenly. He felt exhausted. Tired and weak. "I asked you first."
She walked up to him silently and he let her wrap her arms around his waist. He let her put her head on his shoulder. Mark closed his eyes as she pressed her lips against his neck and he sighed when he caught a whiff of her hair.
It felt good to hold her, to be held by her.
His Karalynn.
He wanted to get lost in her.
He wanted to forget what had just happened.
But he couldn't.
"Karalynn, what..."
"Mark, come with me." she said, looking up at him. He ached for her when she pulled away but at least she held his hand.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"Home."
"But your car..."
"I live up the street." she said quietly.
He followed her like a lamb.

Mark blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes used to the bright lights of her apartment. They had walked a few blocks away from the hotel, further uptown and he was grateful to be indoors, away from the chilly wind.
Karalynn closed the door behind them and looked up at him, her eyes wide and round.
"This is your place?" Mark said, in amazement.
"Home sweet home?" she said with a slight smile.
Her apartment was spacious and lofty. A wide screen television and two speakers sat on one side of the living room and a huge black leather couch was set across from it. An expensive looking glass table stood between them. The hardwood floor was almost completely covered by a thick burgundy rug. On the other wall, across from the door where Mark stood was a tall, impressive looking bookcase. But Mark's eye was drawn to the oil painting above the couch.
It was a picture of the beach at sunset. Colors whirled and melted into each other like butter. It was both a busy and calming painting, obviously done with great skill.
It was beautiful.
He gestured to it as Karalynn took his stuff from his hands and put them down on the kitchen counter.
"Is that one of yours?" he asked.
She looked up and shook her head. "My father's." she said quietly. "That's one of my father's pieces."
"Oh." Mark said. "Is he still at MIT?"
"He's dead." she said simply.
Mark looked at her. Karalynn sat down on one of the counter stools and looked up at the painting.
"He was an artist." she said quietly. "A good one. I remember I used to watch him paint at night, after he got home from work. Sometimes, I used to paint next to him. He was a professor, like Collins. Like I'm going to be one day. But his true calling was painting."
Mark walked up to her and touched her hand. She was as cold as ice.
"I'm sorry." he said meekly. "When did..."
"When I was eighteen." she said. "He got into a car accident coming home one day. He hung on for a few weeks. I got to talk to him, say good bye before he died of complications."
"And your mother?"
"She ran off with someone else when I was seven." she said. Her voice was soft and barely above a whisper. Her gray eyes clouded over and became shiny but she didn't cry. She turned her gaze on him. "Everyone I love leaves me, Mark. I figured, after awhile, it'd be easier if I left first. Or if I just... didn't feel...."
Mark wanted to smile at her.
Sound familiar, Cohen? he thought to himself.
And then a sobering thought entered his mind.
"You were going to leave me without telling me?" he asked. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, nodding instead.
"Why?"
"I...I didn't think I could..." she said softly. She cleared her throat and ran her fingers through her hair, letting it free from the clip that held it back. "I didn't think I could do it. Say good bye. To you."
"Because you'd feel guilty?" he asked.
It wasn't the answer he wanted to hear.
He wanted to hear her say.....
"Because I didn't want to." she said.
Mark smiled slightly and brought her hands up to his lips.
"Then don't." he said. "Don't go."
Karalynn gently pulled her hands away from him and shook her head.
"Mark, my father made me promise him that I would be a success." she said. Her eyes went past him, to the painting. When she spoke next, her voice was broken. "He wanted me to do well. To work hard. Everything I do... I do because I want to live up to my father's expectations of me. He thought I hung the moon and the sun up in the sky. I can't let him down. He lived his life, giving me everything I wanted..."
She looked back into Mark's eyes and he had never seen them filled with so much expression.
Even when she laughed, Mark had always felt as if she were holding back.
Now all her barriers were down.
"He told me once that he had applied to Stanford, as an undergrad. They rejected him. They rejected my father." she said. "And now they want me to work there. I want to make my father proud of me. I want to make good on my promise, Mark. I want to be a success."
"Karalynn, I'm sure your father didn't mean it that way." he said quietly. "I'm sure success to him meant... being happy. The way Collins makes you sound, you're a rising star, Karalynn. And Collins does not lie. You are a success. Everyone thinks so. I was watching those people around you tonight and I could see it in their faces... they thought the world of you. But are you happy?"
She slowly shook her head no.
"Do you think you'd be happy... moving to California?"
"A few months ago, I would have thought so." Her eyes were honest and bright as she spoke.
"But now?" he asked.
She shook her head. "But now you make me happy, Mark."
Mark smiled. It was a sweet, simple smile and it lit up his entire face.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. Her hands in his hands had warmed up considerably and he let them go, bringing his hands up to her face.
His heart pounded as he felt her hands slip up his chest. He felt a jolt as the kiss deepened and he pulled back suddenly.
"Wait." he said, breathlessly.
Karalynn looked at him expectantly. Her face was confused.
"Mark, is something wrong?" she asked. He shook his head and blushed.
"Karalynn... I..." He stopped and studied her eyes. "I..."
She stared at him as he seemed to fumble for words and then she understood.
"Mark, it's okay." she said quietly. "You don't have to say it."
His cheeks were churning with what was probably half of his blood supply but he shook his head.
"I want you to hear it." he said. "I want this to be right."
Karalynn reached up and touched his cheek and it seemed to give him the courage to say the words.
"I love you." he whispered.
She closed her eyes and he took her in his arms and held her tightly, marveling at how strong he felt just by saying three simple words.
Me feel strong? Mark thought. Me, Mark Cohen. Strong?
He smiled.
He was strong.
After all, he held the world in his arms.