[A/N: As some of you know, I was accepted to Interlochen (a performing arts camp in Michigan) and I will be away for a month beginning this Saturday. We don't have computer access at the camp, so this is going to be my last update until I return in mid-July. I've left you with a nice long chapter to make up for all those shorties. Thanks to all my faithful reviewers! I'll miss you! You can expect an update as soon as I get back.]

"I'm going to work. Bye, Rog!" Mimi shouted from the apartment door.

"Wait. I'm going by the café anyway. I'll walk you," Roger offered as he slipped a hand around her waist.

Mimi surprised him when she pulled away quickly. "Uh . . .no, that's ok. Really. You don't have to do that."

"But I want to," he said, slightly offended.

Mimi sighed as they made their way out the door and hoped that she was think of some excuse to go to the Cat Scratch Club before they got to the café.

Roger motioned to the messenger bag Mimi had slung over her shoulder. "Why do you have to take all that shit to work all the time?"

"Just a change of clothes . . .and stuff."

"Let my carry it. That looks heavy." He lifted the strap from her shoulder.

"No! I mean, no thanks. I'm fine." She pulled back.

"Mimi, what's going on with you? You can tell me." Roger grabbed hold of the strap and pulled harder just as Mimi let go. The force sent him banging into a nearby dumpster.

Mimi hurried over to him. "Sorry . . ."

Roger winced and rubbed the back of his head. "I'm ok."

Mimi inhaled sharply when she saw that the contents of her messenger bag were strewn across the sidewalk. She quickly picked them up shoving them haphazardly into the bag.

Roger reached out to help her when a familiar color of silk caught his eye. "What are you doing with this?" He held up Mimi's old costume that she used wear at the Cat Scratch Club. It was a disgustingly tight pink leotard complete with fringe and sequins.

Mimi wanted to let it all spill out right then and there like the clothing and costumes spread across the sidewalk, but her thoughts of the consequences allowed another lie to slip through her lips. "I was throwing this stuff away. I just found it the other day. Roger, I'm sorry, I just didn't want you to see it. That part of my life is over now." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and stared at the sidewalk, unable to meet his eyes.

"Meems, it's ok." He put his arms around her and kissed the curve between her neck and shoulder. "I know you wouldn't go back to that shithole. I trust you."

Mimi wanted to crawl under a rock. I trust you. Those words were too much to bear, but she knew that if she said something now Roger's reaction would be worse than she could imagine. There was no getting out. She had already been sucked in to a world of lies.

I don't deserve this, Mimi thought to herself. I don't deserve him.
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"Roger told me what happened. Why did you do that to yourself?" Kelly asked as she poured herself some cereal.

Collins shrugged and avoided her concerned gaze.

Kelly tried again. "Collins, I know you miss Angel. I know that it's hard. But drugs aren't going to make it any easier. I'd think an intelligent man like you wouldn't resort to that."

"I was desperate, alright? I was ready to do anything to get my mind off her . . .just for one moment. Just enough to make me happy. And I was happy for a while . . .until it wore off." He propped his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. "You're happy. You have Mark. Mimi has Roger. Maureen has . . .well at least Maureen has something to live for. I'm left with nothing. You don't know, Kelly. You don't know what this is like."

For a fleeting moment, Kelly lost all sympathy for the melancholy man sitting before her. "Well, did you ever think that maybe you're not the only person to lose someone? They lost Angel, too! They loved her in a different way, but it was love all the same."

"You didn't know Angel!" he yelled accusingly.

"But I knew someone like her. Someone really important to me. And I didn't turn to drugs when I lost her!" She sank back into her chair and the room suddenly went quiet. "I'm sorry," Kelly whispered. "I wasn't thinking . . .I-I did the same thing."

"You indulged yourself with drugs?"

"No. I turned to sex. But Collins, it didn't help anything. It only made things worse. If only I could have seen it before it happened . . ."

He put an arm around her trembling shoulders. "Before what happened?"

"Nothing. It's not important now. Listen, I have to go meet Maureen so . . ."

"You don't have to talk about it. Go ahead and meet Maureen before she bites your head off for being late. She almost killed Roger with a plastic bowl the other night. Don't ask."

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"Ok, I'm officially not doing this. I'm leaving. Bye!" Maureen flew out the door of the department store, but Kelly grabbed her by the arms.

"Do you really want to spend the next few months in Mark's old T-shirts?" Kelly teased. "Every piece of clothing you own is either skin-tight or see-through or it lacks so much coverage that it can't be identified as clothing. And pregnant women don't look good in mini skirts or leather pants either."

Maureen pouted. "Well, I've given up on leather anyway. Save the cows."

"Since when are you an animal rights activist?"

"Since now. Besides, I like cows."

Mimi entered behind them. "Sorry I'm late. I was at work. And what's with the cow thing? I'm still having nightmares about when you were vegetarian for-what was it? -two days."

"It was a good idea!" Maureen protested.

"Not when we had to hide the hot dogs and buy soy milk. That stuff is awful." Mimi cringed at the memory. "It made Roger sick."

"On a happier note," Kelly cut in, "shall we do some shopping?"

"You call this shopping? I call it torture. Look at this tempting stuff!" Maureen browsed through a rack of sheer tops.

Mimi dragged her away. "No. Nothing tight. Nothing see-through. That's for me." She grinned as grabbed a size small in lime green and steered Maureen to the section with maternity clothes.

"This looks like something my mother would wear," she said as she lifted a violet shirt with pink hearts from its hanger. Maureen tossed it back onto the rack with a disgusted expression.

"Maybe because this is the clothing section for-gee, I dunno-mothers?" Kelly giggled at the gigantic pair of jeans she held in her hands.

"But I'm not like that! I'm not Little Miss Soccer Mom. I have style and individuality." Maureen motioned to Mimi's lime green top still on the hanger.

"Then I guess you'll have to stifle your individuality for the next three months." Mimi tossed her a pile of T-shirts. "These aren't so bad. But I thought the ones with the dancing teddy bears would be quite a turn on."
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"What are you doing here?" was Maureen's greeting when she found Joanne in the Loft after her shopping expedition.

"Hi, Joanne! How are you?" Kelly smiled sweetly, glaring at Maureen. "Behave," she whispered.

Joanne ignored Maureen's manners for once and turned to Kelly and Mimi. "I was just talking to Roger. He's helping Shannan and I with some boxes for the new apartment." Roger nodded from behind the refrigerator door.

"What new apartment?" Maureen raised an eyebrow.

"Shannan and I are moving back into this building together."

"Why aren't you still living with Shannan in her fancy apartment? Did she lose her job?" Maureen asked almost hopefully.

Joanne laughed. "No, she still has her job as editor, but Shannan has been asked to begin writing her own columns for Hot Kiss. The company has decided to do some new things with the magazine rather than the typical topics of fashion and celebrities, so Shannan will be spending a lot of time writing about the arts."

"Can't she walk across the street to her big fancy Broadway theatre to do that?" Maureen spat.

"Shannan is writing about art in the East Village. It would give the magazine a more cutting-edge feel to it rather than old-style Broadway. She thought it would be interesting to live here for a while for . . .inspiration. And since I once lived in this building we decided to move back here. It isn't nearly as nice as her old place, but with a bit of decorating I'm sure it will be just fine for the two of us. Besides, I'll get to spend more time with friends."

Maureen dropped her shopping bag. "Wait. Whoa . . .hold on. This building? As in this very same building that I'm living in right now? No way. I can't deal with that." She added as an afterthought, "OR these clothes!" Maureen tossed the bag on the ground. "I'm going for a walk." She stomped out of the room.

Slam.

"And DON'T follow me!" Maureen screamed up the stairwell.

Mimi glanced at the others. "Should I . . .?"

"No," they said in unison.

Roger made an attempt to escape from the silence. "I think I'll go get Collins and Mark to help me take care of those boxes."
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The wind whipped Maureen's curls wildly around her face as she pushed the speed limit on her motorcycle. The last time she had ridden her motorcycle was the night of her protest two years ago. She hadn't been on it since, because Joanne had told her that it was a "ridiculous and dangerous way to get around." Maureen was surprised she could even reach the handlebars with her stomach resting in front of her, but when she found that it was easy enough for her to get on she took off to an unknown destination.

"Anywhere but here," Maureen muttered to herself.

She knew that she had made a completely idiotic and melodramatic scene back at the Loft. It's what I'm known for, she reminded herself. She had done nothing but enhance the reputation she had been trying so hard to get rid of. She wanted so badly to change. Maureen had always thought that if she were a bit more serious or gossiped less or tried to cut down on the drama maybe then Joanne would want her back. But that plan was ruined, thanks to "Miss Prissy," formerly known as Shannan.

Maureen felt the baby kick and had to stop, so she pulled over into the park and sat down on a bench. Tears clouded her eyes.

"Don't cry, Maureen. Don't be a baby. Don't be a drama queen."

Her personal pep talk failed, and the tears began to fall. Maureen must have been sitting there for over an hour hating Shannan, hating Joanne, hating maternity clothes, and despising the universe for dumping a load of problems on her instead of somebody else.

She looked up and was surprised to find Joanne standing there. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you ask me the same thing a few hours ago?"

"I told you not to follow me. Where's Mimi? I want to talk to Mimi."

"Well, I did follow you. Mimi and Roger are helping Shannan move in. Mind if I join you?"

Maureen didn't bother to reply, so Joanne took the liberty of sitting beside her. "She's really not that bad, you know." Joanne was referring to Shannan. Maureen didn't answer. "I know you hate me right now but . . ."

Maureen mumbled something.

"What?"

"I don't hate you." Her voice came out in a whisper. "I try to hate you. I try really hard. I feel like I'm supposed to. But I can't. It's too hard because. . ." Maureen stopped.

"Why?"

"Because I never stopped loving you."

Joanne could think of nothing to say.

"I know it's my fault. If I hadn't done anything with Jeff then you never would have left, you never would have met Shannan, and we wouldn't be sitting here having this conversation."

"Maureen, don't blame-"

"I have to blame myself!"

Joanne tried to put an arm around Maureen's trembling shoulders. "Leave me alone!" She turned away, still crying. She felt the baby kick again. "Ow."

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine!"

"You don't seem ok . . ."

"I told you I'm-ow! Damnit, that hurts." Maureen finally allowed Joanne to awkwardly put an arm around her shoulders. It was the first time Joanne had touched her since the night they broke up.

Joanne rubbed Maureen's back slowly. "That better?"

"Mmhmm." Maureen was in a complete daze. When the shock of being in Joanne's arms had worn off, she rested her head contently on her shoulder. Joanne still smelled the same, Maureen noticed. She was wearing the same cologne. I had an almost masculine scent -nothing too girly. Maureen remembered the blanket she had back at the Loft. It was the one she hadn't washed after Joanne left. It still smelled like that cologne, and whenever Maureen was upset she would wrap it around herself and suddenly feel safe. But this wasn't pretend. This was real. This time Joanne was there. "Joanne . . .if you hadn't met Shannan . . .would we still be together?"

"I don't know." Joanne hugged her tighter. "You know I love you, Maureen but . . ."

"I know. And I don't hate Shannan . . .it just hurts to see you with her. I get so jealous and then I say things I don't mean and then I end up making a big scene like I always do."

It was dark by now. The only light came from the street lamps and the crescent moon that hung overhead. If it weren't for the distant hum of traffic, Maureen would have thought she was somewhere else far away from New York. Somewhere in her dreams. A light drizzle of rain began to fall, and Maureen shivered.

"Let's not sit out here in the rain." Joanne motioned to Maureen's motorcycle. "You drove that thing here?"

Maureen nodded sheepishly.

"You'll come close to killing yourself if you drive that thing home. I'll take you. Climb on board." Joanne surprised Maureen when she swung a leg over the motorcycle and motioned for Maureen to hop on behind her.

"You know how to drive it?"

"You taught me last summer, remember?"

"And you hated it," Maureen giggled, climbing on.

"Well, maybe it's time for me to broaden my horizons. Hold on."

Joanne started the motorcycle with a roar.

And as a harvest moon rose over Cyberland, we reared back. We sprang into a gallop. Leaping out of orbit, I awoke singing.

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Joanne walked Maureen up the stairs to the Loft. It was almost a perfect evening. No, they weren't a couple, but there was a mutual understanding between the two that their friendship was worth something more. They heard Mimi's voice coming from behind the apartment door and stopped. Something sounded wrong.

"Listen, we told you not to come back here. Just leave her alone. Please."

"She has something that's mine and I want it back," a man's voice said.

"She's really upset and when she comes home to find you here . . .would you just leave? I'll do anything to make you leave."

"Anything? Hmmm. Is Roger home?"

"The guys are downstairs," Mimi answered, and then realized what she had just said. "I mean . . ."

"Oh, so no one is home? That's just fine. I see you strip at the club every night. I think I need a personal show. What's wrong? You do it all the time for a crowd. Maureen wasn't this shy." The man laughed.

"Don't touch me!"

Maureen and Joanne heard something hit the floor. "Mimi!" They threw open the door to find Mimi on the ground with a man looming over her.

"Get away from her!" Maureen screamed, lunging for the man's back. Joanne held tight to her arm.

Jeff turned around. "Maureen. What a pleasant surprise. Aren't you going to wish me a Happy Fathers' Day?"

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[Can't you just feel the scary music?]