A/N: Let me just say that this chapter is something that I never thought
I'd get to. At the end of this one will be a big old list of thank-you's.
That is all. Proceed
Chapter 46: December Twenty-Fourth.
"You could always go with this robin's egg, also. This one looks fabulous on hazel eyes. Most people tend to think that blue eye shadow doesn't work on anyone with green eyes, but I promise this one will—Queenie!" Angel squealed, interrupting his intensive eye shadow search with one of his regular customers, Misty Schultz, a young ad-exec in her mid 30's with the most beautiful eyes Angel had ever seen.
"Merry Christmas, baby!" Queenie greeted as Angel ran out from behind the counter and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "How's the makeup business today?"
"It's great! I helped this one customer who...oh my god, Misty, I'm sorry!"
Laughing, she shook her head. "It's fine. Maybe she can help us with my dilemma!"
"Oh my god! Makeup shopping! I haven't gone hardcore makeup shopping in so long. This will be fun!" Queenie squealed as she stood next to Misty and Angel resumed his position behind the counter. "So what are we dealing with here?"
"Eye shadow crisis," Angel explained, his voice now taking on a very serious tone. "Misty has a Christmas function tonight with her colleagues and she has a lot of people to impress. She explained her outfit. It's got a kind of black, blue, silver color scheme going on. She's found the right lipstick—a subtle, pale pink, but now she needs the right eye shadow to match it."
"Wow, this is a tough one. Let me get a look at your eyes, sugar," Queenie said, staring deeply into Misty's hazel eyes, looking deep in thought. "I think a light blue or a silver would work well," she concluded.
"That's what I was thinking, but we've got 5 different 'light blues' and 3 different 'silvers' to choose from, hence our dilemma," Angel said.
"Well, have we narrowed it down at all?" Queenie asked, looking at the eight black compacts in front of her.
"I think it's between robin's egg, clear sky, and stardust," Angel decided, looking at Misty for approval.
"Yeah, I think those three are my favorites," she agreed.
"Well, this 'clear sky' looks like it's a bit too bright. You want something that's a very subtle blue—almost silver, but just blue enough so it'll pick up the blue in your dress and the bluish tones in your eyes," Queenie suggested.
"God, you're almost better at this than me!" Angel exclaimed, as he picked out the compact of robin's egg shadow. "So you wanna go with this one?"
"I think so. My dress has this one bold blue stripe on it and I think it'll help bring that out," Misty pointed out, examining the small compact.
"Definitely. I think this is the way to go," Queenie agreed.
"Thanks so much, both of you. Angel's my usual consultant," Misty explained to Queenie, "He's absolutely amazing with this stuff. Nobody knows makeup better than Angel."
"I taught him everything he knows," Queenie said, beaming with pride.
"Oh I'd believe that," Misty said, laughing. "You both are very impressive together. Thank you so much. Ang, I'll be sure to let you know how the party goes."
"Yeah, I can't wait to hear about! Merry Christmas, Misty! Take care!" Angel said, as Misty paid for her eye shadow and lipstick and left the store.
"Ang, you are good. I'm very impressed. I've never seen my little makeup artist at work," Queenie giggled.
"Well, I only learn from the best." He smiled at her and gave her another hug. "Not that I mind you being here or anything, but why did you come?"
"I heard that tonight is drag night at Metropolis," Queenie explained, as Angel's eyes lit up at the mention of it. "I am going to help you find a perfect outfit, but I figured that we should pick out the perfect makeup first."
"Oh my God!" Angel yelped, hugging her again. "I have the perfect outfit, but it's missing something," he explained, "It's that Santa coat that Mimi bought me last Christmas. I've even got the perfect outfit to wear under it—you know that flower skirt, the leotard with the yellow and orange sleeves, and that green tank top with the fuzzy collar? Will bought it for me for my birthday a few years back. I've even got that flower headband I made when I was, like, sixteen that matches the skirt perfectly! But I want different tights. I've never really liked the green ones I've worn with it, and I thought that maybe something crazy like zebra tights would look good, especially with that jacket."
"Sounds like you've got it all planned!" Queenie exclaimed.
"Yeah, I've been planning this Christmas outfit for a long time. I already know what makeup I want too! I found three different eye shadows I like—purple haze, royal steel, and stardust. I found my lipstick too! We just got this great new red lip-stain in and I found a red lipstick that comes in a pack with this clear glitter stuff."
"Wow...if I had known you had it all planned, I wouldn't have come by so early," Queenie said, laughing at how perfectly Angel had planned everything out.
"Well we close in about 2 minutes, so after I close up we can go on a wild hunt for zebra tights. Nobody is better at finding obscure clothes then you."
"I guess I do have a knack for finding things that are different," Queenie admitted, "Okay. Let's close up shop and then we'll go shopping."
"I'm almost frightened," Angel giggled as he gathered up the makeup that he had set aside for himself, stuffed it in his gold purse, and locked the door behind Queenie and himself.
"Oh, baby, you should be."
"Queenie," Angel whined, trailing behind her, "we've been shopping for three hours! It's almost five o'clock already!"
"Yes, it's almost five o'clock on Christmas Eve, you don't have your tights yet, and we're running out of time!"
"We've been wandering all over creation! The only place we haven't gone yet is Dancing Queen."
Queenie stopped dead in her tracks, her dark almond eyes lighting up. "That is precisely where we will go next!"
They walked another three blocks, until Angel thought he was going collapse. Luckily, they arrived at Dancing Queen before he decided he could go no further.
"Tiff!" Queenie called into the empty store. It had been quite some time since Queenie had brought Angel here, since most of the clothes that the store carried, Angel had, or had no interest in buying. "It's a fashion emergency!"
Popping her head, topped with a blue wig out from behind a rack of clothes, Tiff got up immediately when she saw who it was that needed her help. "Hey strangers. Haven't seen the two of you around here in a while. How have you been holding up?"
"Alright," they both answered in unison.
"We really need your expertise," Queenie pleaded, "See, Angel and I have been scouring the entire city looking for a pair of zebra tights. It's drag night at Metropolis and Angel needs the perfect outfit. He's got most of it, but the missing piece is the tights."
"This could make or break the outfit," Angel said, his voice full of urgency.
"You are in luck, baby," Tiff said, to the relief of both Angel and Queenie, "We have one pair of tights left. They've been sitting in the back forever and I was just about to ship them back. They're this insanely small size. Most queens can't even fit into them, but they're perfect for you, Ang."
Jumping up and down in excitement, Angel hugged Tiff. "You have no idea how happy this makes me! My outfit for the night is complete!" He squealed in excitement as Tiff went to the back room to retrieve the tights. She emerged with the package in hand. Queenie started to fish through her purse for money, but Angel stopped her.
"No, I'm paying for this. You spent three hours shopping with me and that's enough," Angel insisted.
"No, I'm paying for it," Tiff said. "Think of it as a Christmas present."
Smiles spread on both of their faces as Tiff dropped the tights in a small, pink bag that sported the Dancing Queen logo and handed it to Angel. "Merry Christmas, girls. Enjoy!"
"Oh, we will!" Queenie called as she ushered Angel out of the store.
Once they were outside, stars were beginning to litter the sky, which had been dark for at least an hour. Clutching the bag to his chest, Angel breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his outfit for tonight was set. He was beyond excited for drag night at Metropolis—he knew that he would be among the most fashionable queens there. This was truly his chance to shine. "Thanks so much for taking me shopping," he said to Queenie, who was standing beside him and leaning against the brick outside of Dancing Queen.
"It's no problem!" she exclaimed, putting her arm affectionately around his shoulders. "Wear it well. Tonight's gonna be fun, I can feel it."
"Me too. I feel bad that I'm skipping out on the Life Support meeting, though. Paul really wanted me there. I guess every Christmas they do a big commemoration of people they've loved and lost to AIDS, or something. If it wasn't drag night, I'd totally go."
"Well, it sounds like it'll be kind of depressing. There's nothing wrong with just wanting to have a good time on Christmas Eve."
Angel sighed and nodded, glancing down at his watch and noticing that it was only 5:15 PM. "I think I'm gonna go home and get changed. Maybe I'll do some drumming, or something, before I get ready to go out tonight."
"Alright, sounds good," Queenie said, kissing him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, baby. Have fun."
"I will. You too. I love you, Queenie."
"I love you too, Angel."
They hugged one last time and then parted ways.
He had almost reached his usual drumming destination. It was especially cold tonight, even for a late December evening. Angel had a knit had covering his head to keep him warm. He usually hated hats and preferred wigs, but he wasn't in the mood to wear a wig just yet. He was saving that for tonight. As the minutes passed, he got more and more excited about going to Metropolis. He made a pact with himself not to have anymore promiscuous sex, but he was hoping to at least have a heavy make out session before calling it a night. The wind blew down the street causing him to zip up his red, quilted jacket even more. Underneath, he only wore a thin, long-sleeve spandex shirt with a glitter screen print of the earth on it. It was always one of favorite shirts, and one that he'd had for quite some time. He bought it while he was with Lenny, which was about six years ago. On his legs, he had his all-time favorite pair of jeans—a pair that Tiff had custom-made for him with iridescent square- shaped sequins covering the denim. His scuffed-up sketchers sneakers kicked a rock in front of him, as he spotted the place where he usually liked to drum. Mimi's building was just a few feet away, but it was around the corner. He used to play right in front of her building, but the solitude of his new area made it easier for him to get lost in his music.
Having just gotten situated on his tub, he put the other one between his knees and began to play; slowly at first, getting faster and harder as time went on. After only about two minutes of playing, a woman stood in front of him. Most people who stood and watched him didn't stand nearly this close, and they always threw a dollar or two into the coffee can he had sitting next to him. She stood about six inches away from his tub and refused to move. Abruptly, Angel stopped playing and looked up at her. She resembled most of the upper crust of New York society—a mink fur coat, expensive leather pumps, a perfect blonde bob haircut, classic pearl earrings and necklace to match. These were exactly the kind of people who kept Angel in the East Village—he wanted to escape them, not run into them on a regular basis.
"Can I help you?" he asked, after watching the woman examine him for a few minutes.
"I think you can. Pardon my staring, but I needed your help with something. Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Bethany Kingsley and I live right in that building over there." She pointed to the nicest building on the block—a well-kept brick edifice. "My neighbor has the most obnoxious, ridiculous dog that will not stop barking. I haven't slept well in what seems like years, that thing is up all night barking."
"Not to be rude, ma'am, but how the hell does this involve me?" Angel asked, getting impatient with the woman.
"I'm getting to that. I want you to play those mock-drums of yours on my windowsill. I'm thinking that'll make that thing bark so loud it'll tire itself out, do you catch my drift?"
"So you want me to drum until the dog shuts up?" he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her.
"Basically, yes. I'll pay you a thousand dollars—oh and I'll pay you another 200 if you trim the Christmas tree for me."
"Sorry, but I have plans tonight. I can't trim the tree, but I'll play my drums. A thousand dollars is a hell of a lot more than I'd be making on the street."
"Wonderful. Thank you, dear. Now, follow me up to my place and we'll get started."
This was something he thought he'd never do—follow an older, rich woman up to her apartment. Shrugging his shoulders, he picked up the dented coffee can, stacked his tubs inside each other and followed her around the corner and across the streets.
The apartment was absolutely stunning and was among the most expensively furnished that Angel had ever seen. Holly, ivy, and mistletoe adorned the doorways and the countertops and a large, barren pine tree sat in the corner of a huge living room. Angel gawked at the place: it was huge.
"Right this way," Bethany Kingsley led him to the window sill she wanted him to sit in. From this window, he could clearly see the apartment building he was supposed to be playing at—the building directly across the street from Mimi's. "See that window right there, with the blue drapes?" she asked, pointing to the biggest window on the side of the building Angel was facing. The building seemed so close together that Angel felt like he could reach out and touch the window she was pointing to. He'd probably want to reach out and touch it, if he wasn't on the top floor (the 21st floor) of the building.
In the window, he saw a small, harmless-looking Akita dog staring at him. He smiled at the dog, which proceeded to yap at him. The bark was loud, high-pitched and glass shattering. Suddenly, Angel understood why this woman was so eager to shut the pup up.
"Now play," she instructed, standing behind him as he held the tub under his arm, banging on it with his free hand. Sure enough, the dog barker louder and faster now. As Angel's beats got faster, the dog barker louder and he kept up with the pace. What Angel didn't realize at first was that the window was open. He kept drumming faster and faster as the dog began to lean out the window. Concerned, Angel quickly stopped drumming and looked over at Bethany, who looked pleased with his work.
"Ma'am, uh, the dog is, uh --."
"Keep playing," she insisted, cutting him off. Shrugging his shoulders, Angel went back to playing. After only about five more minutes of playing, the dog started to lean out the window again, only farther this time. Making one last obnoxious yap, the dog fell head-first into the narrow empty space below. It whined as it fell, but once it made contact with the ground, there was silence—complete and total silence.
"Well, at least it won't bark anymore," Bethany remarked, as she shoved the one-thousand dollars into Angel's hand (all in 50 dollar bills) and rushed him out the door.
Once he had gotten outside the building, he thought to himself about what just happened. "Fuck," he said out loud, as he peered around the building and saw the dog, or what was left of it, lying in a lifeless heap. "FUCK!" he said even louder, when he realized that he was the murderer of the poor, innocent dog. "I've gotta get out of here," he mumbled as he crossed the street, trying to get his mind off what just happened. He looked down at his watch, which now read 8:45 PM, noticing that he had been in that woman's apartment for over an hour. He shuddered at the thought of what he had just done. Never in his life did he think he'd be a killer.
He was so preoccupied by thinking about what happened that he almost ran straight into the person coming at him. "Sorry," he apologized. Looking at the person, he realized that it was Mimi and his eyes lit up.
"What's up?" she asked, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"You don't wanna know. What are you doing out at this time? I thought you weren't working," Angel asked.
"Oh, I just went out for some fresh air. Are you drumming?"
"Yeah, I was just about to," he said, fiddling with the tub in his hand.
"Sweet. What are you up to tonight?"
"Drag night at Metropolis!" he squealed, suddenly filled with a renewed sense of excitement.
"Nice! What are you wearing?" she asked.
"That fabulous Santa coat you bought me and this outfit that Will bought me for my birthday a few years back. You wanna come with me?" he asked, hoping that he'd have her as a companion tonight.
"Yeah, I'd love to! You wanna meet me at my place around 10:30 and we'll go then?"
"Sounds good!" he exclaimed. "I gotta get some drumming in before I need to leave and get ready. I'll see you later, honey. And don't worry about paying tonight—I got it covered."
She looked at him, slightly puzzled, but agreed. "Okay. See you later, chica."
Angel watched her walk back to her building, noticing that she looked even thinner and paler than normal. He figured it was just the winter—everyone looking pale in the winter. Rounding the corner, Angel resumed his favorite drumming spot. Setting one tub between his knees and planting himself on top of the other one, he began to drum feverishly, trying to stop thinking about that poor dog.
He was just starting to get in a groove when he heard a strange sound—it sounded like a bat. Confused, Angel stopped banging on his tub for a minute and listened. Silence. "Must be the wind," he said softly to himself, as he pulled the knit cap farther down on his head, and continued to play.
Out of nowhere, a man with long, wild dreadlocks ran around the corner, collapsing against the outside wall of the building right next to him. Groaning in pain, he keeled over, sitting on the cold concrete. Concerned, Angel stopped playing and looked at the man. "He must be freezing," he thought, noticing that the man wasn't wearing a coat, only a button-up denim shirt and jeans with a big rip in the knee.
"Hey," he called out. The man looked up through his curtain of dreadlocks and Angel recognized him right away. It was Sexy Dreadlocks Guy from Mimi's building. He hadn't seen him around in a while.
Angel's breath caught in his throat. "Breathe," his mind told him, "Stay calm."
Getting up off his pickle tub, he cautiously walked slowly towards him. "Are you okay honey?"
A/N: Dum dum DUM!!!!!! Enter Collins (Sexy Dreadlocks). I honestly cannot believe that I got this far. Seriously, I thought I'd give up after maybe 20 chapters, even though I had the whole thing planned. And here I am, on chapter 46 with RENT starting. I've got big plans for Angel (or Little Angel, as I so affectionately call him) and Collins (AKA Pothead!Collins) together, so stay tuned, folks. At this time, I'm going to do some thank yous. I'm a dork and I feel like this is a big deal, so I'll stop to thank everyone who's helped me along the way. Thanks, first of all, to Jonathan Larson for coming up with Angel and RENT and for inspiring me to write. To RENT itself for being so amazing =) and to Jai Rodriguez, my first Angel, who will always be Angel to me. Nobody will ever take his place. Thanks to Mark Richard Ford, for inspiring Collins. Thanks to my teachers who have read this monster and who've encouraged me to continue it. Thank you to Rachel, my best friend in the world, who helped me through this. We've had some crazy inspiration sessions and a lot of good laughs. AWOTWU! SAL! Thanks to Risa, who ALWAYS makes me laugh and who first inspired me to continue this when I was ready to give up. And to everyone else who reviewed, thank you times a million. Your positive encouragement and all the praise that you've given me is something I appreciate more than you know. Thanks for reading and I hope you've enjoyed it thus far. Stay tuned while I embark on Part 2 of T4U... RENT.
Chapter 46: December Twenty-Fourth.
"You could always go with this robin's egg, also. This one looks fabulous on hazel eyes. Most people tend to think that blue eye shadow doesn't work on anyone with green eyes, but I promise this one will—Queenie!" Angel squealed, interrupting his intensive eye shadow search with one of his regular customers, Misty Schultz, a young ad-exec in her mid 30's with the most beautiful eyes Angel had ever seen.
"Merry Christmas, baby!" Queenie greeted as Angel ran out from behind the counter and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "How's the makeup business today?"
"It's great! I helped this one customer who...oh my god, Misty, I'm sorry!"
Laughing, she shook her head. "It's fine. Maybe she can help us with my dilemma!"
"Oh my god! Makeup shopping! I haven't gone hardcore makeup shopping in so long. This will be fun!" Queenie squealed as she stood next to Misty and Angel resumed his position behind the counter. "So what are we dealing with here?"
"Eye shadow crisis," Angel explained, his voice now taking on a very serious tone. "Misty has a Christmas function tonight with her colleagues and she has a lot of people to impress. She explained her outfit. It's got a kind of black, blue, silver color scheme going on. She's found the right lipstick—a subtle, pale pink, but now she needs the right eye shadow to match it."
"Wow, this is a tough one. Let me get a look at your eyes, sugar," Queenie said, staring deeply into Misty's hazel eyes, looking deep in thought. "I think a light blue or a silver would work well," she concluded.
"That's what I was thinking, but we've got 5 different 'light blues' and 3 different 'silvers' to choose from, hence our dilemma," Angel said.
"Well, have we narrowed it down at all?" Queenie asked, looking at the eight black compacts in front of her.
"I think it's between robin's egg, clear sky, and stardust," Angel decided, looking at Misty for approval.
"Yeah, I think those three are my favorites," she agreed.
"Well, this 'clear sky' looks like it's a bit too bright. You want something that's a very subtle blue—almost silver, but just blue enough so it'll pick up the blue in your dress and the bluish tones in your eyes," Queenie suggested.
"God, you're almost better at this than me!" Angel exclaimed, as he picked out the compact of robin's egg shadow. "So you wanna go with this one?"
"I think so. My dress has this one bold blue stripe on it and I think it'll help bring that out," Misty pointed out, examining the small compact.
"Definitely. I think this is the way to go," Queenie agreed.
"Thanks so much, both of you. Angel's my usual consultant," Misty explained to Queenie, "He's absolutely amazing with this stuff. Nobody knows makeup better than Angel."
"I taught him everything he knows," Queenie said, beaming with pride.
"Oh I'd believe that," Misty said, laughing. "You both are very impressive together. Thank you so much. Ang, I'll be sure to let you know how the party goes."
"Yeah, I can't wait to hear about! Merry Christmas, Misty! Take care!" Angel said, as Misty paid for her eye shadow and lipstick and left the store.
"Ang, you are good. I'm very impressed. I've never seen my little makeup artist at work," Queenie giggled.
"Well, I only learn from the best." He smiled at her and gave her another hug. "Not that I mind you being here or anything, but why did you come?"
"I heard that tonight is drag night at Metropolis," Queenie explained, as Angel's eyes lit up at the mention of it. "I am going to help you find a perfect outfit, but I figured that we should pick out the perfect makeup first."
"Oh my God!" Angel yelped, hugging her again. "I have the perfect outfit, but it's missing something," he explained, "It's that Santa coat that Mimi bought me last Christmas. I've even got the perfect outfit to wear under it—you know that flower skirt, the leotard with the yellow and orange sleeves, and that green tank top with the fuzzy collar? Will bought it for me for my birthday a few years back. I've even got that flower headband I made when I was, like, sixteen that matches the skirt perfectly! But I want different tights. I've never really liked the green ones I've worn with it, and I thought that maybe something crazy like zebra tights would look good, especially with that jacket."
"Sounds like you've got it all planned!" Queenie exclaimed.
"Yeah, I've been planning this Christmas outfit for a long time. I already know what makeup I want too! I found three different eye shadows I like—purple haze, royal steel, and stardust. I found my lipstick too! We just got this great new red lip-stain in and I found a red lipstick that comes in a pack with this clear glitter stuff."
"Wow...if I had known you had it all planned, I wouldn't have come by so early," Queenie said, laughing at how perfectly Angel had planned everything out.
"Well we close in about 2 minutes, so after I close up we can go on a wild hunt for zebra tights. Nobody is better at finding obscure clothes then you."
"I guess I do have a knack for finding things that are different," Queenie admitted, "Okay. Let's close up shop and then we'll go shopping."
"I'm almost frightened," Angel giggled as he gathered up the makeup that he had set aside for himself, stuffed it in his gold purse, and locked the door behind Queenie and himself.
"Oh, baby, you should be."
"Queenie," Angel whined, trailing behind her, "we've been shopping for three hours! It's almost five o'clock already!"
"Yes, it's almost five o'clock on Christmas Eve, you don't have your tights yet, and we're running out of time!"
"We've been wandering all over creation! The only place we haven't gone yet is Dancing Queen."
Queenie stopped dead in her tracks, her dark almond eyes lighting up. "That is precisely where we will go next!"
They walked another three blocks, until Angel thought he was going collapse. Luckily, they arrived at Dancing Queen before he decided he could go no further.
"Tiff!" Queenie called into the empty store. It had been quite some time since Queenie had brought Angel here, since most of the clothes that the store carried, Angel had, or had no interest in buying. "It's a fashion emergency!"
Popping her head, topped with a blue wig out from behind a rack of clothes, Tiff got up immediately when she saw who it was that needed her help. "Hey strangers. Haven't seen the two of you around here in a while. How have you been holding up?"
"Alright," they both answered in unison.
"We really need your expertise," Queenie pleaded, "See, Angel and I have been scouring the entire city looking for a pair of zebra tights. It's drag night at Metropolis and Angel needs the perfect outfit. He's got most of it, but the missing piece is the tights."
"This could make or break the outfit," Angel said, his voice full of urgency.
"You are in luck, baby," Tiff said, to the relief of both Angel and Queenie, "We have one pair of tights left. They've been sitting in the back forever and I was just about to ship them back. They're this insanely small size. Most queens can't even fit into them, but they're perfect for you, Ang."
Jumping up and down in excitement, Angel hugged Tiff. "You have no idea how happy this makes me! My outfit for the night is complete!" He squealed in excitement as Tiff went to the back room to retrieve the tights. She emerged with the package in hand. Queenie started to fish through her purse for money, but Angel stopped her.
"No, I'm paying for this. You spent three hours shopping with me and that's enough," Angel insisted.
"No, I'm paying for it," Tiff said. "Think of it as a Christmas present."
Smiles spread on both of their faces as Tiff dropped the tights in a small, pink bag that sported the Dancing Queen logo and handed it to Angel. "Merry Christmas, girls. Enjoy!"
"Oh, we will!" Queenie called as she ushered Angel out of the store.
Once they were outside, stars were beginning to litter the sky, which had been dark for at least an hour. Clutching the bag to his chest, Angel breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his outfit for tonight was set. He was beyond excited for drag night at Metropolis—he knew that he would be among the most fashionable queens there. This was truly his chance to shine. "Thanks so much for taking me shopping," he said to Queenie, who was standing beside him and leaning against the brick outside of Dancing Queen.
"It's no problem!" she exclaimed, putting her arm affectionately around his shoulders. "Wear it well. Tonight's gonna be fun, I can feel it."
"Me too. I feel bad that I'm skipping out on the Life Support meeting, though. Paul really wanted me there. I guess every Christmas they do a big commemoration of people they've loved and lost to AIDS, or something. If it wasn't drag night, I'd totally go."
"Well, it sounds like it'll be kind of depressing. There's nothing wrong with just wanting to have a good time on Christmas Eve."
Angel sighed and nodded, glancing down at his watch and noticing that it was only 5:15 PM. "I think I'm gonna go home and get changed. Maybe I'll do some drumming, or something, before I get ready to go out tonight."
"Alright, sounds good," Queenie said, kissing him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, baby. Have fun."
"I will. You too. I love you, Queenie."
"I love you too, Angel."
They hugged one last time and then parted ways.
He had almost reached his usual drumming destination. It was especially cold tonight, even for a late December evening. Angel had a knit had covering his head to keep him warm. He usually hated hats and preferred wigs, but he wasn't in the mood to wear a wig just yet. He was saving that for tonight. As the minutes passed, he got more and more excited about going to Metropolis. He made a pact with himself not to have anymore promiscuous sex, but he was hoping to at least have a heavy make out session before calling it a night. The wind blew down the street causing him to zip up his red, quilted jacket even more. Underneath, he only wore a thin, long-sleeve spandex shirt with a glitter screen print of the earth on it. It was always one of favorite shirts, and one that he'd had for quite some time. He bought it while he was with Lenny, which was about six years ago. On his legs, he had his all-time favorite pair of jeans—a pair that Tiff had custom-made for him with iridescent square- shaped sequins covering the denim. His scuffed-up sketchers sneakers kicked a rock in front of him, as he spotted the place where he usually liked to drum. Mimi's building was just a few feet away, but it was around the corner. He used to play right in front of her building, but the solitude of his new area made it easier for him to get lost in his music.
Having just gotten situated on his tub, he put the other one between his knees and began to play; slowly at first, getting faster and harder as time went on. After only about two minutes of playing, a woman stood in front of him. Most people who stood and watched him didn't stand nearly this close, and they always threw a dollar or two into the coffee can he had sitting next to him. She stood about six inches away from his tub and refused to move. Abruptly, Angel stopped playing and looked up at her. She resembled most of the upper crust of New York society—a mink fur coat, expensive leather pumps, a perfect blonde bob haircut, classic pearl earrings and necklace to match. These were exactly the kind of people who kept Angel in the East Village—he wanted to escape them, not run into them on a regular basis.
"Can I help you?" he asked, after watching the woman examine him for a few minutes.
"I think you can. Pardon my staring, but I needed your help with something. Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Bethany Kingsley and I live right in that building over there." She pointed to the nicest building on the block—a well-kept brick edifice. "My neighbor has the most obnoxious, ridiculous dog that will not stop barking. I haven't slept well in what seems like years, that thing is up all night barking."
"Not to be rude, ma'am, but how the hell does this involve me?" Angel asked, getting impatient with the woman.
"I'm getting to that. I want you to play those mock-drums of yours on my windowsill. I'm thinking that'll make that thing bark so loud it'll tire itself out, do you catch my drift?"
"So you want me to drum until the dog shuts up?" he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her.
"Basically, yes. I'll pay you a thousand dollars—oh and I'll pay you another 200 if you trim the Christmas tree for me."
"Sorry, but I have plans tonight. I can't trim the tree, but I'll play my drums. A thousand dollars is a hell of a lot more than I'd be making on the street."
"Wonderful. Thank you, dear. Now, follow me up to my place and we'll get started."
This was something he thought he'd never do—follow an older, rich woman up to her apartment. Shrugging his shoulders, he picked up the dented coffee can, stacked his tubs inside each other and followed her around the corner and across the streets.
The apartment was absolutely stunning and was among the most expensively furnished that Angel had ever seen. Holly, ivy, and mistletoe adorned the doorways and the countertops and a large, barren pine tree sat in the corner of a huge living room. Angel gawked at the place: it was huge.
"Right this way," Bethany Kingsley led him to the window sill she wanted him to sit in. From this window, he could clearly see the apartment building he was supposed to be playing at—the building directly across the street from Mimi's. "See that window right there, with the blue drapes?" she asked, pointing to the biggest window on the side of the building Angel was facing. The building seemed so close together that Angel felt like he could reach out and touch the window she was pointing to. He'd probably want to reach out and touch it, if he wasn't on the top floor (the 21st floor) of the building.
In the window, he saw a small, harmless-looking Akita dog staring at him. He smiled at the dog, which proceeded to yap at him. The bark was loud, high-pitched and glass shattering. Suddenly, Angel understood why this woman was so eager to shut the pup up.
"Now play," she instructed, standing behind him as he held the tub under his arm, banging on it with his free hand. Sure enough, the dog barker louder and faster now. As Angel's beats got faster, the dog barker louder and he kept up with the pace. What Angel didn't realize at first was that the window was open. He kept drumming faster and faster as the dog began to lean out the window. Concerned, Angel quickly stopped drumming and looked over at Bethany, who looked pleased with his work.
"Ma'am, uh, the dog is, uh --."
"Keep playing," she insisted, cutting him off. Shrugging his shoulders, Angel went back to playing. After only about five more minutes of playing, the dog started to lean out the window again, only farther this time. Making one last obnoxious yap, the dog fell head-first into the narrow empty space below. It whined as it fell, but once it made contact with the ground, there was silence—complete and total silence.
"Well, at least it won't bark anymore," Bethany remarked, as she shoved the one-thousand dollars into Angel's hand (all in 50 dollar bills) and rushed him out the door.
Once he had gotten outside the building, he thought to himself about what just happened. "Fuck," he said out loud, as he peered around the building and saw the dog, or what was left of it, lying in a lifeless heap. "FUCK!" he said even louder, when he realized that he was the murderer of the poor, innocent dog. "I've gotta get out of here," he mumbled as he crossed the street, trying to get his mind off what just happened. He looked down at his watch, which now read 8:45 PM, noticing that he had been in that woman's apartment for over an hour. He shuddered at the thought of what he had just done. Never in his life did he think he'd be a killer.
He was so preoccupied by thinking about what happened that he almost ran straight into the person coming at him. "Sorry," he apologized. Looking at the person, he realized that it was Mimi and his eyes lit up.
"What's up?" she asked, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"You don't wanna know. What are you doing out at this time? I thought you weren't working," Angel asked.
"Oh, I just went out for some fresh air. Are you drumming?"
"Yeah, I was just about to," he said, fiddling with the tub in his hand.
"Sweet. What are you up to tonight?"
"Drag night at Metropolis!" he squealed, suddenly filled with a renewed sense of excitement.
"Nice! What are you wearing?" she asked.
"That fabulous Santa coat you bought me and this outfit that Will bought me for my birthday a few years back. You wanna come with me?" he asked, hoping that he'd have her as a companion tonight.
"Yeah, I'd love to! You wanna meet me at my place around 10:30 and we'll go then?"
"Sounds good!" he exclaimed. "I gotta get some drumming in before I need to leave and get ready. I'll see you later, honey. And don't worry about paying tonight—I got it covered."
She looked at him, slightly puzzled, but agreed. "Okay. See you later, chica."
Angel watched her walk back to her building, noticing that she looked even thinner and paler than normal. He figured it was just the winter—everyone looking pale in the winter. Rounding the corner, Angel resumed his favorite drumming spot. Setting one tub between his knees and planting himself on top of the other one, he began to drum feverishly, trying to stop thinking about that poor dog.
He was just starting to get in a groove when he heard a strange sound—it sounded like a bat. Confused, Angel stopped banging on his tub for a minute and listened. Silence. "Must be the wind," he said softly to himself, as he pulled the knit cap farther down on his head, and continued to play.
Out of nowhere, a man with long, wild dreadlocks ran around the corner, collapsing against the outside wall of the building right next to him. Groaning in pain, he keeled over, sitting on the cold concrete. Concerned, Angel stopped playing and looked at the man. "He must be freezing," he thought, noticing that the man wasn't wearing a coat, only a button-up denim shirt and jeans with a big rip in the knee.
"Hey," he called out. The man looked up through his curtain of dreadlocks and Angel recognized him right away. It was Sexy Dreadlocks Guy from Mimi's building. He hadn't seen him around in a while.
Angel's breath caught in his throat. "Breathe," his mind told him, "Stay calm."
Getting up off his pickle tub, he cautiously walked slowly towards him. "Are you okay honey?"
A/N: Dum dum DUM!!!!!! Enter Collins (Sexy Dreadlocks). I honestly cannot believe that I got this far. Seriously, I thought I'd give up after maybe 20 chapters, even though I had the whole thing planned. And here I am, on chapter 46 with RENT starting. I've got big plans for Angel (or Little Angel, as I so affectionately call him) and Collins (AKA Pothead!Collins) together, so stay tuned, folks. At this time, I'm going to do some thank yous. I'm a dork and I feel like this is a big deal, so I'll stop to thank everyone who's helped me along the way. Thanks, first of all, to Jonathan Larson for coming up with Angel and RENT and for inspiring me to write. To RENT itself for being so amazing =) and to Jai Rodriguez, my first Angel, who will always be Angel to me. Nobody will ever take his place. Thanks to Mark Richard Ford, for inspiring Collins. Thanks to my teachers who have read this monster and who've encouraged me to continue it. Thank you to Rachel, my best friend in the world, who helped me through this. We've had some crazy inspiration sessions and a lot of good laughs. AWOTWU! SAL! Thanks to Risa, who ALWAYS makes me laugh and who first inspired me to continue this when I was ready to give up. And to everyone else who reviewed, thank you times a million. Your positive encouragement and all the praise that you've given me is something I appreciate more than you know. Thanks for reading and I hope you've enjoyed it thus far. Stay tuned while I embark on Part 2 of T4U... RENT.