"Close on Mark, as he packs up the rest of his belongings, preparing to leave his own home." Mark turned the camera towards himself and gave a little wave. Then he panned across the boxes piled up on each other, each individually scrawled on so he would know what was what.

"I wonder how the hell I'm going to move all this stuff," he said quietly.

Oh, hell, he thought, I'll manage. I always do.

***

"Maureen, I've been keeping quiet for almost the whole afternoon- but I have to say now, this is just fucking STUPID!"

"Hush, Pookie. You wanna help me become a better actress, right?"

Maureen had convinced- no, she FORCED Joanne to do improv games with her that afternoon. The one they were in the middle of required Joanne to be a taxi cab driver, as Maureen pretended to be a variety of different characters- most of whom were either cracked out of their mind, or crazy.

"Take me to Detroit, Sweets," Maureen moaned in what she thought sounded like an insane old man.

"Maureen, enough!" Joanne exclaimed, standing up. "This is ridiculous."

Collins, who had been watching the two argue for most of the day, chuckled softly.

Maureen whirled around and gave him a dirty look. "Well, no one asked YOU to come and watch, Mr. Collins," she snapped.

"Actually, I didn't come on my own. Joanne asked for my company," he replied, smugly.

"Yeah, because Collins has some experience in Medics, and knowing you and your crazy schemes, someone's BOUND to get hurt," Joanne said, laughing.

'FINE," Maureen huffed, pulling off her wig. "But when I become a television star, don't expect me to share my salary with you."

"Right, Honeybear," Joanne sighed.

Suddenly, a loud rapping sound was heard at the front door.

"You gonna get that?" Joanne asked, impatiently.

"No." Maureen folded her arms stubbornly.

Joanne rose up to open the door.

"Mimi?"

Maureen and Collin's heads turned towards the doorway.

"She's back again?" Maureen asked, walking over besides Joanne. Then, "Oh God, honey, what happened?"

Mimi stood in the doorway, her shoulders shaking. Her eyes were red and puffy, and it looked like she'd been crying for a long period of time.

"Come here." Maureen grasped Mimi's unsteady hand in hers, and guided her over to the couch. She pressed Mimi against her, and could feel her quiver as she tried to hold in sobs.

'Shhh, you know it's Mark he's upset with, not you," Maureen said gently, patting Mimi on the back.

"No," Mimi said in watery voice, looking up at Maureen tearfully. "He HATES me. You should have heard him. I've never seen him so angry before," she hiccupped. "He called me a- he said . . ."

"It's alright, you don't have to tell me," Maureen interrupted, trying to coax her into calming down.

"He called me a whore," she said softly, as a tear sloppily dripped from her nose.

Collins and Joanne glanced at each other nervously, and Maureen closed her eyes, and shook her head. Why'd he have to take his anger out on Mimi?"

"He's just angry, he doesn't mean what he says," insisted Maureen, trying convince her.

"You don't understand," Mimi whispered, brushing a tear away with the back of her hand. She didn't want to go into the argument they'd had with Maureen. Not now, anyway.

***

"Thanks, Benny," Mark said, exasperated, as he got the last of the boxes into the backseat of his car.

"Hey, what's a yuppie-scum for, anyhow?" Benny joked, and Mark's face turned red.

"I didn't mean that before," he stammered.

"Right. It's okay, forget about it. Besides, now I've got one less person to worry about in the building," Benny laughed. Mark rolled his eyes.

"So where you gonna go?" Benny asked, as he slammed the car door shut.

"Don't know. I'll probably get a room in a motel for a few days or something," Mark replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"A motel? Here? Good luck,' Benny sneered. "Hey, something fell out of one of the boxes." He bent down to retrieve a small maroon notebook, with a little metal clasp on the side.

"What's this, some little kid's diary?" he asked, turning it over in his hands with a quizzical look on his face.

"I'll take that," Mark sad quickly, grabbing it from Benny's hands. "It's um, Roger's. I'll just set it outside his door."

Quickly, he ran back up the stairs to what was now his old apartment, and easily slid the notebook under the doorway, being as it was so flat.

When he returned, Benny was leaning against the car impatiently, his arms folded over each other.

"Sorry about that. Well, I guess I'll see you around," Mark said, tucking his camera under his arm. "Give Muffy a kiss for me."

"Fuck you," Benny snapped, 'You know I haven't been over there in weeks. She just got another one of those damned Akita things, and it never shuts up. She's calling it 'Evita, the 2nd."

"Haha!"

"Shut up. Get out of here, will you?" Benny said, punching him playfully on the shoulder.

"You've got it, boss. See you around."

He turned the keys in the ignition, and pressed his foot down on the pedal. He waved to Benny as he pulled away from the sidewalk.

He's probably find some cheap motel to camp in at that night. But first he wanted to go to Maureen and Joanne's place. He figured that that's where Mimi had gone. He wanted to make sure she was okay before looking for a room.

***

"Want me to order something to eat?" Collins offered, trying to be of some help.

Mimi shook her head, as did Joanne.

"I'm not hungry," Maureen said softly, as she watched the petite Latinna girl who was currently leaning against a pillow, her eyes tired from crying.

"So, I'm guessing you're going to spend the night again?"

Mimi nodded her head, slowly. "If it's not any trouble."

"Are you kidding Meems? It's no trouble at all," Maureen laughed, and poked her in the ribs, trying to cheer her up.

Mimi smiled weakly.

"Meems, I KNOW Roger. I'm used to his mood swings, everything will turn around. Trust me, I know."

"Okay," Mimi said in a small voice, though she didn't believe her.

"More company," Joanne called, as another couple of knocks tapped against the door.

"If it's Roger, I'm not here," Mimi grumbled, burying her face into the pillow.

It was Mark.

"Hey Poo-Mark," Maureen quickly covered herself up as Joanne glared at her, threateningly.

"Hey, Mo. Is Mimi here?" he asked, as he stepped inside the apartment.

A muffled 'Yes' was heard from the couch.

Mark sat beside Mimi, on the opposite side of Maureen.

"Meems?" he said gently, pulling the pillow away.

Her dark brown eyes gazed at him soulfully.

"How are you?" he asked, as she slowly sat up.

"I've been better," she said, tonelessly.

Nervously, she glanced at the doorway. He didn't come with you, did he?" she asked quickly.

Mark shook his head. "Nope. It's just me."

She sighed in relief, and flopped back down on her side.

"Mimi, you know it's not you he's angry at . . ."

"I know, I KNOW, he's not mad at me, he's just taking out his anger on me, that's all," she mimicked, coldly. "Maureen already told me."

Mark looked to Maureen for help, and she returned to him a 'What do you want ME to do?' look.

"Let's put it off until tomorrow, okay?" Mark said, desperately. "Are you guys hungry?"

Maureen shook her head up and down, as did Joanne. Mimi rolled her eyes, and nodded.

Triumphantly, Collins, picked the phone up out of the cradle and dialed for Take-Out Chinese.

***

Roger finally stepped out of his bedroom. He ran a hand through his disheveled mussed hair, and for one neglected his hair gel. He looked around the living room, trying to figure out if Mark had really left or not. He felt sick and empty inside. He didn't REALLY want Mark to leave. He was his best friend, for Christ sakes!

He walked over to the front door and opened it, hoping to see Mark's stuff still outside, which would mean he hadn't left yet.

But the boxes were indeed, gone. Instead, Roger found a small, flat little maroon notebook lying on the ground.

Confused, he picked it up, and opened it up, turning to the inside cover. The name printed on the page in black ink was strikingly familiar. It read, 'April Cristina McGonahan.'