[AN: An exciting and dramatic chapter for New Year's Eve. ::scary music
yet again::]
Maureen looked from the address on the paper to the building and back again.
"This can't be right," she frowned. "This dump is worse than my apartment building." She was right. The walls were covered with graffiti and the door had apparently been torn from the hinges. Maureen had to step carefully to avoid the broken glass that was covering the pavement. And this wasn't located in the best part of the city, either. The Cat Scratch Club was less than a block away.
"Oh, great. This place is one big whorehouse," she groaned as she saw the sign. "What am I saying? Mimi isn't like that. . .at least not anymore. Am I?" Maureen thought of Jeff. "Ugh, don't think about him! Focus, Maureen, focus! You need to make a good impression." She was about to knock on the door, but then remember that there wasn't one so she walked right in.
"Uh, hello? Anyone here?"
"Who's there?" a husky voice called. Maureen was frightened to find out whom this threatening voice belonged to. She cleared her throat.
"Maureen. Maureen Johnson. I'm here for the band rehearsal. . .for the wedding band."
A tall African-American man emerged from a doorway at the top of the stairs. "Honey, we ain't no wedding band. Who told you that?"
"My agent."
"Oh, that Jeff guy I talked to? Yeah, he seems like a deceiving guy. At least, that was my first impression of him. Ya know what I mean? We don't perform at those fancy weddings. This is hard rock. Nobody wants that at a wedding. We play at some of the clubs around here."
"Around here?" Maureen shifted nervously. "As in. . .this area?"
The man eyed her carefully. "You're not one of those rich Manhattan chicks, are you?"
"No," she laughed. "Not at all."
He smiled. "Good. I'm Mikey." He held out a hand. He was a lot less threatening when he had a smile on his face.
Maureen shook his hand. "It's a pleasure."
"Follow me. I'll introduce you to the rest of the band." Maureen followed Mikey up the stairs. They entered a room about the size of the loft. However, the walls were covered with rock posters and the place was a mess. Maureen was instantly thankful to be living with Joanne. Paranoid as she was, it was nice to have someone around who was organized.
"This is Bert," Mikey said as he motioned to a bass player with green and purple spiked hair. "And this is Charlie." He pointed to a drummer wearing nothing but boxers. Mikey leaned closer to Maureen and whispered in her ear, "You're gonna have to excuse Charlie. He was partying hard last night." He straightened up and Maureen supressed a giggle. "I play the electric guitar, and you're gonna be our singer! Everybody, this is Maureen!" He sounded like he was announcing this to a room full of people instead of two scruffy-looking men. They waved hello, and Maureen noticed that Bert was staring wide-eyed at her breasts. Mikey noticed this as well.
"Oh, sorry about him, Maureen. . ."
"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll take care of it." She backed up and stared at his crotch. He turned away looking embarrassed. "That's what you get for checking out my tits. In case you were wondering, I'm not available. My girlfriend and I don't plan on breaking up any time soon." She put extra emphasis on the word "girlfriend" and smiled proudly when Bert's jaw dropped.
"Yeah, I'm a lezzie. Get over it." She giggled. "So are we gonna sit around or are we gonna start rockin'?"
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"Roger, I'm gonna have to leave around 10:30," Mimi said.
"What for?"
"My new job."
"You got a job?" Roger threw down his guitar and leaped off the couch. He was apparently surprised. "Where at?"
"This café down the street," she lied. "I'm working as a waitress."
"Wow."
"Was that a good "wow?""
"No. Well, yeah. I mean, gosh Meems, I honestly never thought you could pull this off. But you did . .and I'm proud!" Roger grinned and hugged her. Mimi wondered how many other ways he would find to make her feel worse.
"Um, thanks, Rog." Mimi pulled away from him.
"God, what's wrong with you, Meems?"
"Nothing. I have to go."
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After Maureen listened to the three guys play a few songs, Mikey handed Maureen a piece of paper. "These are the lyrics. I'll play the tune for you." He plucked some strings on his guitar. "You got it?"
"I think so."
Charlie hit his drumsticks together. "One, two, three, four!" Maureen began to sing.
"You remind me of a dump truck. . .'cause you suck. . .oh yeah you're bad luck. . .oh fuck. . .I said a fucka fucka fucka fuck." She stopped. "What the hell. . .?"
"What did you stop for?" Bert asked.
"Who wrote these lyrics?"
"Charlie did."
"Hmmm. . ." Maureen took out a pencil and began scribbling a few things down.
"What are you doing?"
"Making revisions. Charlie, would you mind if I wrote something for us?"
"You're a songwriter too?"
"As of now. . .yes I am," Maureen smiled. "No offense, Charlie, but this is. . .um, how can I say this?"
"Shit. We know," Charlie laughed. "Listen, Maureen. How about we end practice early today and you can come back at our next practice with something better. Maybe we'll have it ready for our next gig." The others nodded in agreement.
"Alright, then. I'll try. Bye, everybody!" Maureen walked out of the building.
"Who is that?" she muttered to herself. She has just seen a woman who looked almost exactly like Mimi walking into the Cat Scratch Club. She convinced herself that she must have imagined it and decided not to bring it up to anyone. What would they say if they knew she was working in a dump like this? Maureen pulled her jacket tightly around her against the wind and continued on her way home.
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"Oh, Honey Bear! How did the rehearsal go?" Joanne asked as soon as Maureen walked through the door.
"It was great. Absolutely fantastic," Maureen replied to Joanne who was beaming.
"I'm so proud that you got a job! I just knew you were talented enough to do it!"
"Thanks."
"You know, we should really invite that agent of yours over to the New Year party at the Life Café tomorrow night. Jeff is his name, right? It's the least we can do to thank him. . ."
"NO! I mean, you really don't have to do that. I thanked him enough," Maureen told her girlfriend hoping that Joanne would go along with her.
"Alright then," Joanne sighed.
------------------------------------------------------
"Zoom in on Roger as he groggily crawls out of bed in the late afternoon. He doesn't look like he'll make it to midnight," Mark said after barging into Roger and Mimi's bedroom with his camera on New Year's Eve.
"Shut up, Mark. And turn off the camera!" Roger groaned in irritation. "We were just up late last night."
"Up late? I see. . ." Mark grinned.
"We were doing. . .other things," Mimi said with a giggle. She turned to the camera. "Roger and I had quite a time." The couple began to laugh hysterically while Mark hurried from the room.
"I'd better get out of here before they have "quite a time" again," he murmured.
"Happy New Year, sweetie." Roger gave Mimi a kiss. "Are we gonna party hard tonight, or what?"
"Yeah!" she smiled. "Let's just hope they don't kick us out!"
"Oh, c'mon. They weren't THAT mad last time!"
"Oh really. Then why did they escort us out of the building? That's right. You were so damn drunk that you couldn't stop knocking things over!"
"Was NOT!"
"Was too!"
"No way!"
"Yes way!"
"Excuse me!" Collins appeared in the doorway. "It's the middle of the afternoon. Why don't you two start getting ready so we can begin the party early?"
"Collins?! A party animal?!" Roger snorted. "Since when did this happen?"
"Since I've decided to try and have some fun for once since. . ." he trailed off and walked away.
"Since Angel died," Mimi whispered.
---------------------------------------------------
"Joanne!" Maureen called. "Joanne!!!"
"What is it Honey Bear?" Joanne emerged from the bedroom.
"I can't find my leather pants!" Maureen whined like a child.
"Which pair?"
"You know. . .THE pair. THE leather pants. THE perfect leather pants that I was gonna wear tonight!"
"Oh, THOSE." Joanne pretended to know what Maureen was talking about. "Have you checked the drawer where I put all the leather pants?"
Maureen stopped rummaging through the closet and opened the top drawer. "Oh, uh, there they are."
Joanne laughed. "What are you laughing at? Do you think I'm a ditz or something? Well, this hair isn't blonde, IS IT?!" Maureen demanded a little more loudly than she had meant for it to be.
"Maureen, you really don't need to make everything so dramatic."
"Dramatic?! So now you're calling me a DRAMA QUEEN?! I don't believe this, Joanne! AND I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!" Maureen tossed her leather pants onto the bed, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door.
Joanne sighed and waited a few minutes. Then she knocked on the door. "Honey. . . can I come in?" Maureen reluctantly opened the door. "Sweetie, you usually don't act like this. Is something wrong?"
"No."
"Are you PMSing?"
"I sure as hell hope I am. God, Joanne, now that I think about it I haven't had my period since. . .oh my god." Maureen swallowed the lump in her throat.
Joanne nudged her shoulder. "Maureen, don't be ridiculous. It's not like you've had sex with any men. . ." she trailed off when she saw that Maureen's face was streaked with tears.
"Oh my god. Joanne, I'm really, really sorry."
"No." Joanne shook her head. "No. You didn't. Please tell me that you didn't."
Maureen began to sob. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."
"You didn't mean to? That's your excuse?" Joanne was infuriated.
"Pookie, just let me explain."
"Don't 'Pookie' me you liar. Who was it, Maureen? WHO?!"
Maureen was sobbing so hard that she couldn't answer.
"It's over. Officially. I don't give a damn if we've had a million fights and gotten back together a million times. It's OVER. I'm going for a walk. When I get back, I expect to be gone." Joanne's eyes were blazing with anger. Maureen had never seen her like this before. "You whore!"
"Wait!" Maureen called helplessly as Joanne made her way to the door.
"Stay out of my life, Maureen," Joanne said coldly. "And don't you EVER come crawling back." She slammed the door and Maureen could here her footsteps pounding quickly down the stairs.
"Oh my god," Maureen muttered to herself. "I can't be. It's not true. I'm just late. But. . .what am I supposed to do if I am?"
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No one said anything when Joanne never showed up for the party at the Life Café. Maureen and Joanne had been in enough fights for them to know that it wasn't a good idea to bring it up.
"So. . ." Mark make an attempt to begin a conversation. The usually lively group was quiet. Eventually, Roger had a few beers and got the whole group (except Maureen) to sing "The Good Ship Lollipop" while flinging onion rings at each other. Mimi and Maureen were probably the only sane people sitting there. Even Collins was getting a bit tipsy.
"So then I said to her. . .I said 'Why did you toss your cat out the window?' and she says, 'I was hoping to hit you with it!" Roger roared with laughter at his own story (which had no point whatsoever).
"Zoom in on Roger as he drinks his 6th beer. . .or, wait. Meems, how many is that?"
She shrugged. Mark eventually grew bored of Roger and began to look elsewhere for excitement. "Zoom in on Maureen's plate. She hasn't touched her food. God, Mo, usually you're the first to wolf it down," Mark laughed. He was having trouble keeping the camera steady. "Mo, is there two of you? Stop moving so fast. . .ugh, you're confusing me!"
"Mark, just leave me alone," Maureen said quietly and headed for the back of the café.
"Hey, Rog, you think she's ok?" Mimi wondered. But Roger was telling some story about the moth he found in his coffee last week and he didn't hear her.
"I'll be right back," Mimi announced and went in Maureen's direction. She knocked softly on the door to the restroom.
"Mo? It's me. Are you ok?" There was no reply, so Mimi pushed the door open. Maureen was sitting on the bathroom floor leaning against the wall. Mimi could tell she had been crying by the mascara running down her face. She sat down beside Maureen.
Mimi ran her fingers through Maureen's brunette curls. "Did you and Joanne get in another fight?"
She nodded.
"What happened?"
"Well, you know my agent?"
"Uh huh."
"I. . .I slept with him."
"Oh my god. Maureen why the hell did you. . .?"
"Please, Meems. I really don't need you to yell at me right now. I know what I did was stupid. Believe me, I know."
"Sorry. So, Joanne found out?"
"Yeah. And she threw me out. It's officially over."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." Mimi put an arm around Maureen who pulled away.
"Meems. . .something else happened."
"What's going on?" Mimi asked her. She seemed concerned.
"Well. . .I'm late."
"Late for what?"
"I mean it's late."
"What's late?"
"Mimi."
"Just tell me."
"I. . .I think I'm pregnant."
Maureen looked from the address on the paper to the building and back again.
"This can't be right," she frowned. "This dump is worse than my apartment building." She was right. The walls were covered with graffiti and the door had apparently been torn from the hinges. Maureen had to step carefully to avoid the broken glass that was covering the pavement. And this wasn't located in the best part of the city, either. The Cat Scratch Club was less than a block away.
"Oh, great. This place is one big whorehouse," she groaned as she saw the sign. "What am I saying? Mimi isn't like that. . .at least not anymore. Am I?" Maureen thought of Jeff. "Ugh, don't think about him! Focus, Maureen, focus! You need to make a good impression." She was about to knock on the door, but then remember that there wasn't one so she walked right in.
"Uh, hello? Anyone here?"
"Who's there?" a husky voice called. Maureen was frightened to find out whom this threatening voice belonged to. She cleared her throat.
"Maureen. Maureen Johnson. I'm here for the band rehearsal. . .for the wedding band."
A tall African-American man emerged from a doorway at the top of the stairs. "Honey, we ain't no wedding band. Who told you that?"
"My agent."
"Oh, that Jeff guy I talked to? Yeah, he seems like a deceiving guy. At least, that was my first impression of him. Ya know what I mean? We don't perform at those fancy weddings. This is hard rock. Nobody wants that at a wedding. We play at some of the clubs around here."
"Around here?" Maureen shifted nervously. "As in. . .this area?"
The man eyed her carefully. "You're not one of those rich Manhattan chicks, are you?"
"No," she laughed. "Not at all."
He smiled. "Good. I'm Mikey." He held out a hand. He was a lot less threatening when he had a smile on his face.
Maureen shook his hand. "It's a pleasure."
"Follow me. I'll introduce you to the rest of the band." Maureen followed Mikey up the stairs. They entered a room about the size of the loft. However, the walls were covered with rock posters and the place was a mess. Maureen was instantly thankful to be living with Joanne. Paranoid as she was, it was nice to have someone around who was organized.
"This is Bert," Mikey said as he motioned to a bass player with green and purple spiked hair. "And this is Charlie." He pointed to a drummer wearing nothing but boxers. Mikey leaned closer to Maureen and whispered in her ear, "You're gonna have to excuse Charlie. He was partying hard last night." He straightened up and Maureen supressed a giggle. "I play the electric guitar, and you're gonna be our singer! Everybody, this is Maureen!" He sounded like he was announcing this to a room full of people instead of two scruffy-looking men. They waved hello, and Maureen noticed that Bert was staring wide-eyed at her breasts. Mikey noticed this as well.
"Oh, sorry about him, Maureen. . ."
"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll take care of it." She backed up and stared at his crotch. He turned away looking embarrassed. "That's what you get for checking out my tits. In case you were wondering, I'm not available. My girlfriend and I don't plan on breaking up any time soon." She put extra emphasis on the word "girlfriend" and smiled proudly when Bert's jaw dropped.
"Yeah, I'm a lezzie. Get over it." She giggled. "So are we gonna sit around or are we gonna start rockin'?"
------------------------------------------------------------
"Roger, I'm gonna have to leave around 10:30," Mimi said.
"What for?"
"My new job."
"You got a job?" Roger threw down his guitar and leaped off the couch. He was apparently surprised. "Where at?"
"This café down the street," she lied. "I'm working as a waitress."
"Wow."
"Was that a good "wow?""
"No. Well, yeah. I mean, gosh Meems, I honestly never thought you could pull this off. But you did . .and I'm proud!" Roger grinned and hugged her. Mimi wondered how many other ways he would find to make her feel worse.
"Um, thanks, Rog." Mimi pulled away from him.
"God, what's wrong with you, Meems?"
"Nothing. I have to go."
---------------------------------------
After Maureen listened to the three guys play a few songs, Mikey handed Maureen a piece of paper. "These are the lyrics. I'll play the tune for you." He plucked some strings on his guitar. "You got it?"
"I think so."
Charlie hit his drumsticks together. "One, two, three, four!" Maureen began to sing.
"You remind me of a dump truck. . .'cause you suck. . .oh yeah you're bad luck. . .oh fuck. . .I said a fucka fucka fucka fuck." She stopped. "What the hell. . .?"
"What did you stop for?" Bert asked.
"Who wrote these lyrics?"
"Charlie did."
"Hmmm. . ." Maureen took out a pencil and began scribbling a few things down.
"What are you doing?"
"Making revisions. Charlie, would you mind if I wrote something for us?"
"You're a songwriter too?"
"As of now. . .yes I am," Maureen smiled. "No offense, Charlie, but this is. . .um, how can I say this?"
"Shit. We know," Charlie laughed. "Listen, Maureen. How about we end practice early today and you can come back at our next practice with something better. Maybe we'll have it ready for our next gig." The others nodded in agreement.
"Alright, then. I'll try. Bye, everybody!" Maureen walked out of the building.
"Who is that?" she muttered to herself. She has just seen a woman who looked almost exactly like Mimi walking into the Cat Scratch Club. She convinced herself that she must have imagined it and decided not to bring it up to anyone. What would they say if they knew she was working in a dump like this? Maureen pulled her jacket tightly around her against the wind and continued on her way home.
----------------------------------------------------------
"Oh, Honey Bear! How did the rehearsal go?" Joanne asked as soon as Maureen walked through the door.
"It was great. Absolutely fantastic," Maureen replied to Joanne who was beaming.
"I'm so proud that you got a job! I just knew you were talented enough to do it!"
"Thanks."
"You know, we should really invite that agent of yours over to the New Year party at the Life Café tomorrow night. Jeff is his name, right? It's the least we can do to thank him. . ."
"NO! I mean, you really don't have to do that. I thanked him enough," Maureen told her girlfriend hoping that Joanne would go along with her.
"Alright then," Joanne sighed.
------------------------------------------------------
"Zoom in on Roger as he groggily crawls out of bed in the late afternoon. He doesn't look like he'll make it to midnight," Mark said after barging into Roger and Mimi's bedroom with his camera on New Year's Eve.
"Shut up, Mark. And turn off the camera!" Roger groaned in irritation. "We were just up late last night."
"Up late? I see. . ." Mark grinned.
"We were doing. . .other things," Mimi said with a giggle. She turned to the camera. "Roger and I had quite a time." The couple began to laugh hysterically while Mark hurried from the room.
"I'd better get out of here before they have "quite a time" again," he murmured.
"Happy New Year, sweetie." Roger gave Mimi a kiss. "Are we gonna party hard tonight, or what?"
"Yeah!" she smiled. "Let's just hope they don't kick us out!"
"Oh, c'mon. They weren't THAT mad last time!"
"Oh really. Then why did they escort us out of the building? That's right. You were so damn drunk that you couldn't stop knocking things over!"
"Was NOT!"
"Was too!"
"No way!"
"Yes way!"
"Excuse me!" Collins appeared in the doorway. "It's the middle of the afternoon. Why don't you two start getting ready so we can begin the party early?"
"Collins?! A party animal?!" Roger snorted. "Since when did this happen?"
"Since I've decided to try and have some fun for once since. . ." he trailed off and walked away.
"Since Angel died," Mimi whispered.
---------------------------------------------------
"Joanne!" Maureen called. "Joanne!!!"
"What is it Honey Bear?" Joanne emerged from the bedroom.
"I can't find my leather pants!" Maureen whined like a child.
"Which pair?"
"You know. . .THE pair. THE leather pants. THE perfect leather pants that I was gonna wear tonight!"
"Oh, THOSE." Joanne pretended to know what Maureen was talking about. "Have you checked the drawer where I put all the leather pants?"
Maureen stopped rummaging through the closet and opened the top drawer. "Oh, uh, there they are."
Joanne laughed. "What are you laughing at? Do you think I'm a ditz or something? Well, this hair isn't blonde, IS IT?!" Maureen demanded a little more loudly than she had meant for it to be.
"Maureen, you really don't need to make everything so dramatic."
"Dramatic?! So now you're calling me a DRAMA QUEEN?! I don't believe this, Joanne! AND I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!" Maureen tossed her leather pants onto the bed, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door.
Joanne sighed and waited a few minutes. Then she knocked on the door. "Honey. . . can I come in?" Maureen reluctantly opened the door. "Sweetie, you usually don't act like this. Is something wrong?"
"No."
"Are you PMSing?"
"I sure as hell hope I am. God, Joanne, now that I think about it I haven't had my period since. . .oh my god." Maureen swallowed the lump in her throat.
Joanne nudged her shoulder. "Maureen, don't be ridiculous. It's not like you've had sex with any men. . ." she trailed off when she saw that Maureen's face was streaked with tears.
"Oh my god. Joanne, I'm really, really sorry."
"No." Joanne shook her head. "No. You didn't. Please tell me that you didn't."
Maureen began to sob. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."
"You didn't mean to? That's your excuse?" Joanne was infuriated.
"Pookie, just let me explain."
"Don't 'Pookie' me you liar. Who was it, Maureen? WHO?!"
Maureen was sobbing so hard that she couldn't answer.
"It's over. Officially. I don't give a damn if we've had a million fights and gotten back together a million times. It's OVER. I'm going for a walk. When I get back, I expect to be gone." Joanne's eyes were blazing with anger. Maureen had never seen her like this before. "You whore!"
"Wait!" Maureen called helplessly as Joanne made her way to the door.
"Stay out of my life, Maureen," Joanne said coldly. "And don't you EVER come crawling back." She slammed the door and Maureen could here her footsteps pounding quickly down the stairs.
"Oh my god," Maureen muttered to herself. "I can't be. It's not true. I'm just late. But. . .what am I supposed to do if I am?"
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No one said anything when Joanne never showed up for the party at the Life Café. Maureen and Joanne had been in enough fights for them to know that it wasn't a good idea to bring it up.
"So. . ." Mark make an attempt to begin a conversation. The usually lively group was quiet. Eventually, Roger had a few beers and got the whole group (except Maureen) to sing "The Good Ship Lollipop" while flinging onion rings at each other. Mimi and Maureen were probably the only sane people sitting there. Even Collins was getting a bit tipsy.
"So then I said to her. . .I said 'Why did you toss your cat out the window?' and she says, 'I was hoping to hit you with it!" Roger roared with laughter at his own story (which had no point whatsoever).
"Zoom in on Roger as he drinks his 6th beer. . .or, wait. Meems, how many is that?"
She shrugged. Mark eventually grew bored of Roger and began to look elsewhere for excitement. "Zoom in on Maureen's plate. She hasn't touched her food. God, Mo, usually you're the first to wolf it down," Mark laughed. He was having trouble keeping the camera steady. "Mo, is there two of you? Stop moving so fast. . .ugh, you're confusing me!"
"Mark, just leave me alone," Maureen said quietly and headed for the back of the café.
"Hey, Rog, you think she's ok?" Mimi wondered. But Roger was telling some story about the moth he found in his coffee last week and he didn't hear her.
"I'll be right back," Mimi announced and went in Maureen's direction. She knocked softly on the door to the restroom.
"Mo? It's me. Are you ok?" There was no reply, so Mimi pushed the door open. Maureen was sitting on the bathroom floor leaning against the wall. Mimi could tell she had been crying by the mascara running down her face. She sat down beside Maureen.
Mimi ran her fingers through Maureen's brunette curls. "Did you and Joanne get in another fight?"
She nodded.
"What happened?"
"Well, you know my agent?"
"Uh huh."
"I. . .I slept with him."
"Oh my god. Maureen why the hell did you. . .?"
"Please, Meems. I really don't need you to yell at me right now. I know what I did was stupid. Believe me, I know."
"Sorry. So, Joanne found out?"
"Yeah. And she threw me out. It's officially over."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." Mimi put an arm around Maureen who pulled away.
"Meems. . .something else happened."
"What's going on?" Mimi asked her. She seemed concerned.
"Well. . .I'm late."
"Late for what?"
"I mean it's late."
"What's late?"
"Mimi."
"Just tell me."
"I. . .I think I'm pregnant."