"What's the matter?" asked Mark, settling into a narrow wooden chair at the kitchen table.

"Well, Chad just called," Roger said, slowly. "He says that Candace is back in town."

"Ouch. That sucks. Does that mean you can't sing anymore, Mimi?"

"Not exactly," said Roger, answering for Mimi. "She DOES want to sing still, unless we do this one thing for her . . ."

"And that would be?" said Mark, pouring himself a glass of water.

"If you go out with her tonight."

Water spewed from Mark's mouth, missing Mimi by a millimeter, as she hopped out of the way.

"Candace wants to go out with ME? WHY? Why would ANYONE want to go out with me?"

"You're cute, boyishly charming, and obnoxious," Mimi said, simply.

Roger shrugged. "Yeah, I guess that about sums it all up," he said.

"So if I take her out tonight, she'll leave you guys alone and let Mimi sing?"

They both nodded.

"Well . . ." Mark said, scratching his chin. "It would only be for one night, right? I guess it wouldn't be too bad." Mark had never met Candace before.

"Um, Mark, the thing is," Roger said, carefully, "Candace is a junkie. She sleeps around with EVERYONE. She's not exactly someone you'd want to have around for company."

"Sounds like someone I know," Mark mumbled.

Mimi lifted her head, angrily. "Fuck you!" she snapped.

"I wasn't talking about YOU, Mimi," Mark yelled, angrily.

Mimi huffed and folded her arms over each other.

"Look, fighting's not gonna get anyone anywhere, okay?" Roger pleaded. "We're leaving it up to you, Mark. If you take Candace out just this one time, then Mimi will be able so sing at the gig on Saturday, and Candace will leave us alone. If not, Candace will sing instead."

"I don't WANT to, Roger. But if I don't, I'm gonna end up looking like the bad guy, am I right?"

"No, Mark," Roger exclaimed, exasperated. "Me and Mimi already decided that if you don't want to go through with it, it's fine. Candace'll just sing instead."

Mark sighed, feeling guilty. "I'll do it," he muttered.

Roger rose his eyebrow. "Really?" he said.

"Did I stutter?" he grumbled.

Mimi walked over to Mark and hugged him. "Thanks, Marky," she said, a smile breaking out over her face. Mark couldn't help but smile back. "You're welcome," he replied. He sighed, and turned to Roger.

"So, what time's the date?"

***

"I know it's a bit messy, but I haven't really been here long enough during one period of time to clean it," Collins apologized, as he led a young woman into his apartment. She wore large hoop earrings, and her short black hair was cut short, so it rested just above her chin. She wore a sleeveless denim dress, her long muscular dark arms visible.

"It's fine, Tom," she laughed.

Collins blushed. "Actually, my friends all call me Collins."

"Well then, we're both on short-name terms," she said, smiling.

"What's Frankie short for?" asked Collins.

"Francessca." She wrinkled her nose. "I hate it."

"I think it's pretty," Collins said, softly.

Frankie rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. "So, when are you going to introduce me to the rest of your friends?" she asked, slipping her arm through his.

The hair on the back of Collins's neck stood up. He hadn't had a girl this close to him since high school. Well, maybe except for Mimi or Maureen. But that was different.

Before Collins could answer her question, he could hear Maureen and Joanne's voices arguing furiously from outside the door.

"I think they're already here," he said, sighing. He unhooked his arm gently from Frankie's and went to answer the door.

"Hey, Collins," Maureen chirped, walking past him briskly as he opened the door. Joanne smiled at him discreetly, and followed Maureen. Collins and Joanne weren't as friendly with each other as they were with the others.

"You must be Frankie," Maureen said, in a syrupy sweet voice. She held out her hand. "I'm Maureen- one of Collins's better acquaintances."

Frankie shook Maureen's hand, and then acknowledged Joanne in the backround. "And are you an acquaintance of Collins's too?"

"She's my girlfriend," Maureen broke in, before Joanne could reply.

"I see," Frankie said, slowly. She forced a smile. "Well, it's nice to have met you."

"Frankie and I were about to go out to lunch," Collins said, quickly. "I'll talk to you two later, okay?"

Maureen raised her eyebrows. "Right," she said. "C'mon, Pookie, let's hit the floor." The two of them left, side by side.

Collins turned to Frankie after they left. "Is everything okay?" he asked her, with a concerned note in his voice.

"Yes," Frankie said, carefully. "I'm just not used to being around . . . well, you know."

"Lesbians?" Collins said, letting the word linger in the air.

Frankie winced. "Well, yeah." When she saw the troubled look on Collins's face, she began to speak quickly; "I mean, there's nothing WRONG with it of course- just in the neighborhood I grew up with, it was a little more sheltered, you know?"

Collins nodded, slowly.

"Maureen and Joanne seem really nice. It's just . . .I don't know, I feel a little uncomfortable."

Collins nodded again. At least she was being honest.

Frankie bit her lip. "Do you still want to go to lunch?"

Collins forced a smile. "Of course. You'll see soon enough that Maureen and Joanne are nice people." By saying this he hoped that he was hinting that he wanted to be with Frankie long enough that'd she get to know the two of them better. He understood why she'd felt a little uncomfortable around Maureen and Joanne. The thing that was troubling him was that he was still trying to figure out how to tell her about Angel. He couldn't just NOT tell her.

"You coming, Collins?"

He looked up. Frankie was already slipping on her coat.

He sighed. He'd have to wait for a better moment to bring it up. "I'm right behind you," he said, smiling, as he pulled on the jacket that he and Angel had bought together. Hand in hand, they left the apartment.

***

"Why don't you wear your contacts, Mark?" Mimi asked him. Mark was standing in front of the mirror in his room, struggling with an old checked oxford shirt. The buttons refused to button. Mimi sat on his bed, censoring how he prepared himself for the evening. Shewinced at his selection in clothing.

"Well," he said, as he struggled with the collar button, "First of all, they hurt like hell. They make my eyes red and itchy. Second of all, I've kind of grown used to the glasses, you know? I feel naked without them."

Mimi sighed, smiling. 'You're a hopeless case, Mark." Mark pitched an old pair of pajama bottoms at her head. Mimi shrieked, ducking her head. The flannel bottoms hit the wall behind her silently, and fell back onto the floor in a heap.

"Nice try," Mimi snickered. She got up from the bed and stood beside Mark, facing the mirror. She was barely up to his shoulders.

"Why don't you wear something a little more, you know, 'hip'" she asked, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt.

Mark, who didn't really care about the clothes he wore, only shrugged.

"Wait one moment," Mimi said, "I'm gonna bring you some stuff from Roger's closet. If anything, he's a size bigger than you, so you'll be able to fit into them."

"Mimi, wait," he began, but she had already left for Roger's room. A moment later she returned with a pair of suede pants, a white T-shirt, and a leather jacket.

"Try 'em on," she demanded, sitting back down on his bed.

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Do I HAVE to?" he complained.

"Would you like some cheese with that whine?" Mimi giggled. "Lighten up, Mark. You can't show up to a date in just ANY ordinary clothes. They've gotta fit your mood."

Mimi would know, Mark thought to himself.

"Fine," he sighed, giving in. "Go out."

"Huh?"

"You wanna see me naked?" he asked, impatiently.

Mimi wrinkled her nose. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll be outside." She jumped up from the bed and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Mark slipped into the pants, and pulled on the shirt and jacket. He looked into the mirror, and rose his eyebrows. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

"You okay in there, Mark?" Mimi's voice called from behind the door. "I'm guessing you know how to dress yourself."

"Yeah, they're on. You can come in." The door opened, and Mimi entered the room again. She looked him up and down slowly. "Well?" Mark said.

"Not bad," Mimi said, looking surprised. She looked at his glasses again. "Mark, are you SURE you need the glasses? It'd look a lot better without them."

"I would, but I'm not putting those contacts in," Mark said, stubbornly.

"Ditch the contacts. It's only for one night."

"Okay," he said, quietly. He didn't mention the fact that he was blind as a bat without his contacts.

Mimi smiled. "Great!" she said, cheerfully. She stuck her head out the bedroom door. "Roger! Come look at Mark!"

Roger appeared in the doorway next to Mimi.

"Those are my clothes" were the first words that came out of his mouth.

"Don't throw a hissy fit, Rodge. It's just for tonight." She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Besides, look how hot he looks in them! And he's gonna get rid of the glasses for tonight too!"

"I will NOT admit that my best friend is hot, especially in front of my girlfriend," was Roger's reply. "Aw, you don't think I'm sexy, Rodge?" Mark teased.

Mimi wrinkled her nose. "Okay, maybe you two SHOULDN'T talk about it after all," she laughed, leaning towards Roger.

"You know you love it," Roger said, smiling, tickling Mimi in the ribs. She yelped and hopped away from him. He came up behind her, putting his arms under hers and tickling her in the stomach.

"Roger, stop!" she shrieked, struggling to get away. Roger did stop. He lowered his head and kissed her on the neck. Mimi lifted her head and their lips met. Mark rolled his eyes. "Would you guys get a room?" he snapped.

"Oh, come on Mark, you know you're gonna get some tonight," Roger said, laughing.

"Yeah right," Mark said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't doubt yourself like that, Marky," exclaimed Mimi, raising her foot and kicked him lightly in the butt with it. He turned to glare at her, but she had already scrambled back to Roger's lap.

"You guys ARE like little kids," Mark said, shaking his head. He couldn't help but smile, though. He paused for a moment. "So you really think I don't look that bad in these clothes?"

"You look great," Mimi insisted.

"Yeah, by the end of the night, you might not even have them on anymore by the end of the night, so what's the big deal?" said Roger, laughing.

Mark threw a balled up pair of socks at Roger. Again, he missed.