1Disclaimer: I own nothing. The genius that is Jonathon Larson does.

A/N: I made a promise to myself that I will finish this story. I'll probably break that promise. I don't know. I have two other stories that are not completed. Mainly because they're horrible and I have no idea what to do. But I do have an outline for this one, I swear. I also like reviews. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Chapter 1

"Maureen, how many times have I told you to clean up after yourself?!"

There she is again. Joanne. My girlfriend. Always yelling at me, telling me to do this and do that. Sometimes I think she only keeps me around because she needs someone to berate. I don't mind, I guess. I mean, I do but...I don't. That doesn't make sense. I just need to be in a relationship. I need to feel someone's arms around me every night. I need to hear the words "I love you." Even if my partner doesn't mean it. I've always felt the need to be loved. Maybe because my parents divorced when I was 2, and my Mother was too preoccupied with her, many boyfriends...and girlfriends. Mark always told me that I was exactly like my Mother. And I always yelled at him and told him never to compare the two of us. But I understand the comparison now. I am exactly like my Mother. I've slept around with both men and women. I sometimes become so invested in me and only me and I don't realize that I'm hurting the people I love. God, I really did turn into her. I'm surprised I'm not knocked up yet. No, I shouldn't say that. I'm a good person. I really am. I just-

"MAUREEN! Are you listening to me?!"

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Then, in the most saccharine voice I can muster, I reply "Yes, pookie, of course I'm listening to you!"

And this is how my life goes. I'm a performer. If I could get paid for my performances, well, I'd be fucking rich! I'd be living in a penthouse on Madison and Park and everyone would worship me! But it doesn't work that way. I act. I act all the time. I act like I'm oblivious to all that's around me. But in reality, I see everything. And, damnit, all I want is to be thought of as an intelligent, caring and loving woman. Not a self-centered bitch who doesn't know what 2 plus 2 equals! I wish I could stop acting, stop performing. But I can't now. It's my drug.

"MAUREEN! Will you please help me here!? Wash the dishes for God's sake!" Joanne calls. And so does my stage.