[A/N: Oh my gosh, I freakin' love my reviewers. I know I say it all the time, but I really really do! Everything from the Swedish fish to the human sacrifices really motivated me to update faster. But then I had a freakin busy week (last week of school, etc.) and I couldn't write. Sowwie! I'll try harder to update sooner next time! Oh, and I also apologize for this being so short!]

"Maureen . . ." Mimi nudged the inert lump on the couch. "C'mon. You went to bed at nine last night and it's past noon."

The lump groaned and yawned groggily. "I'm not getting up."

"Joanne is going to be here in a half hour."

"I don't care. Tell her to go fuck herself."

"She's bringing Shannan."

"Oh?" Maureen finally made the effort to peek her head out from under the blanket. She tried not to show interest. "Well I don't care about Joanne's stupid girlfriend. Let me sleep for ten more minutes." Up went the covers and Maureen resumed her previous position.

Mimi knew just what to say. "If I were you I'd start getting ready. You want to look nice for Shannan, don't you?"

Kelly, who was passing through the living room, caught on. "Joanne says she's really pretty."

"Oh please. You're just making excuses for me to get off the damn couch," Maureen said apathetically. However, it didn't surprise Mimi when she immediately got up and began going through the closet.

Mimi grinned at Kelly. "So how was Phantom?"

"Incredible!" Kelly exclaimed. "Of course . . .half the time I didn't pay attention. Mark had his arm around me." She sighed. "It really was romantic."

"Someone is in looove," Mimi teased.

Kelly was about to reply when Maureen's voice interrupted them. "DAMNIT! It has to fit! Why won't it fit?!" The yelling ended with the sound of ripping fabric. "Great . . ."

Mimi entered the closet to find Maureen with a pink tank top half-on and half-ripped. "Bad morning?" she asked cautiously, afraid that Maureen might bite her head off at any second.

"What do you think?"
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An hour later Maureen answered the door in one of Mark's old T-shirts. She had done her best to tie up the sleeves and make it slightly sexy or at least feminine. Her efforts had failed, so she had taken the remaining time to throw her curls into a messy bun and carefully apply her makeup.

"Hi, Joanne . . .you must be Shannan." Maureen suddenly felt sick. Shannan was pretty. No, not even that. Striking.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Shannan shook Maureen's hand in a professional manner. Her auburn hair was swept back neatly revealing the most dazzling blue-green eyes. Shannan's perfect, pale skin was a great contrast against Maureen's slightly-freckled nose. And, to Maureen's disgust, she was thin. She was suddenly more aware of her protruding belly.

"Come and make yourself comfortable. Mark went with Roger to his band gig, but Kelly and Mimi are still around if you want to meet them."

An hour passed while they enjoyed polite conversation, and from Maureen's point of view it wasn't so bad. Until Shannan started talking about her career . . .

"I'm a magazine editor for Hot Kiss magazine. Maybe you've heard of it."

"I don't believe I have . . ." Maureen lied as she remembered the last magazine she had read. She was trying to like Shannan, but jealously was still in the way

"So what do you do for a living?" Shannan asked as though expecting something equally well paying.

"I'm a performance artist," Maureen said with pride. "And a composer," she couldn't help adding.

Joanne raised an eyebrow. "So you're a composer now?"

"Yeah. For my band, the Mystix. Maybe you're heard of us." She smiled sweetly, mocking Shannan's tone.

"I don't believe I have . . ." Shannan mocked back with the slightest edge to her voice. At least she was being honest. Maureen and the others had only named their band a few weeks ago.

Joanne decided that this was the perfect time to mention how lovely it was to spend time with Maureen but they had to rush off somewhere. She whisked Shannan out the door. "I know you don't like her," she whispered to Maureen, "but you'll learn to get along sooner or later." She gave Maureen a stiff, awkward hug before leaving.
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"Mo, where the hell have you been?" Mikey asked in a very annoyed tone. "Practice started a half hour ago, so I had to sing. Have you ever heard me sing?"

"No."

"You don't want to," Charlie chuckled.

Mikey leaned his guitar against the wall. "Well since we're all here I can tell you the good news."

"Let me guess . . .you're gonna have a baby?" Bert snorted. Maureen socked him in the shoulder. "Damn, that hurt!"

"It hurts worse when it's coming from the inside so leave me alone. I'm having a shitty day and my little girl isn't helping."

"God, sorry. . . "

Mikey ignored them. "We're entering Band Wars. It's a contest for new bands in the East Village. If we win we can get big bucks. Let's face it, we're not doing so well and we could use some new equipment to replace this crap. So are you all in?"

"I am," Charlie piped up.

"Me too!" Maureen said enthusiastically.

Bert shrugged. "I'll do it . . .but is a band with a pregnant chick as the lead singer really gonna win?"

Mikey frowned. He hadn't thought about this before.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on!" Maureen stood. "If I'm not in this, that means I don't get paid for it. And believe me, I need to get paid. And where else are you going to find a singer? And who's going to write new songs for the contest?"

"The chick has a point," Mikey said, scratching his head. "She's in."

"Thank God." Maureen, despite her lack of religion, made the symbol of the cross. At least her day was getting a little better.

"Lord, save us," Bert muttered under his breath.
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[I know, I know, it's shorttt. But I'll write a longer one next time!]