A/N: Ok so I'm not dead! I won't bother everybody with excuses as to why I didn't update in like forever, but this is really long so hopefully it's worth the wait. I don't own Angel, he belongs to Jonathan Larson. April I'm not sure about because technically we only get her name in the play. Karen belongs to herself I guess because she's a real person. Everybody else is mine

Chapter Three: Not God

After that my childhood was relatively normal, even if my father continuously stopped me from doing certain things. He was just helping me become a man like him, I told myself. Just looking out for me. Some of it hurt, some of it didn't make sense. But he wouldn't do anything that wasn't right for me, right? So I became the model son for him. I focused hard on grades and taking care of Lily. She was with me and my family most of the time. We were never far apart.

In the fall of 1984 we began our first year together at the same school, she in kindergarten and I in sixth grade. I knew my aunt and uncle would be working so I woke up early and cross the street and help her get ready. She was okay about it at first, but as the two of us stepped out of Mama's car and walked up to the doors of Emily Dickenson Elementary her legs began to freeze up. She looked up at me with those huge eyes and hugged her little stuffed animal for dear life.

"Do I hafta go in there, Angel?" she asked. "I don't wanna it looks scary!"

"Aw, Lil." I knelt down so I could be at eye level with her. "There's nothing to worry about I promise."

"Didn't Aunt Marie say you were gonna be here too?"

"Yep, six hours a day five days a week."

"So what if I just went to sixth grade with you and April?"

I laughed. She was so adorable.

"Sorry sweetie, you gotta go through the ranks like I did. Don't worry about a thing. You've got kitty here and I made you a peanut butter and banana sandwich. You're going to make loads of new friends it'll be fun. I'll see you at three o'clock, not a moment after."

"Will Mommy be home today?" she asked hopefully. My face fell.

"I don't think so, baby, I'm sorry, but April and me will. Hey, I have a present for you."

From the pocket of my jeans I pulled out a pair of pink tinted sunglasses.

"When you put these on you'll feel like the bravest girl in the world. They're magic."

"Oooh! Wait a sec…no they ain't!" she giggled.

"Yea-huh," I assured in toddler slang. "Watch, I'll prove it to you."

I placed them on her freckled button nose.

"Now feel the force!" I cried trying to sound as Obi Wan Kenobi as I could. Hard considering I sang in soprano. She scrunched up her face and I thought my heart would burst I loved her so much.

"Ooh! Ooh! Angel, I think I feel it!" She hopped up and down.

"See? Now, my bravest little girl, are you ready?"

"Yep!"

"Okay then! Onward!"

So I got her to the classroom without further difficulty. My old teacher Ms Wolfe was sitting at her desk when I peeked in.

"Hello?" I called and she looked up.

"Angel!" she cried. "What a nice surprise!" She hugged me.

"Aw hi, Ms Wolfe. I brought you a new student."

Lil peeked out from behind my legs.

"Why hello there," the teacher beamed. "Are you the little cousin I've heard so much about?"

She nodded and gave a big smile, her fear evaporating like water. Ms. Wolfe just had that effect on her kids. She loved them no matter who they were.

"Well I'm sure we'll get along just fine," she said warmly.

Satisfied, I got on my knees again and looked at Lillian.

"Listen, baby love, I've got to get going."

"No!" she cried, throwing her arms around my neck. "Please stay!"

I held her close and stroked her auburn hair.

"Hey, hey, hey!" I soothed. "It's going to be okay."

"I want Mommy!" she whispered.

I sighed. She was right; Aunt Nikki should have been there, not me.

"No tears now. I'll see you after school. Hey, I'll even paint your toes."

She perked up.

"Green?" she asked. Lime green was her favorite color. Still is.

"As the Witch of the West. Now besitos."

She kissed my cheek and held up her toy.

"Kitty wants kisses too."

I smiled and kissed the stuffed animal before standing up.

"Goodbye, Ms Wolfe. Lil, be good! Te amo.

As I left the classroom the first bell of the year rang, giving me a lingering headache as always.

Oh, great, I thought. Now I'm late. Whatever. Lil's more important anyway.

I got through the first half of the day without too many problems. Too good to last. Someone threw a paper airplane at me in English with a note saying 'Welcome back, girly boy'. Another fun friendship filled year. When lunch time rolled around I was making my way through the mad rush in the cafeteria when somebody elbowed me in the ribs.

"Hey, watch your back!" I called.

"You watch yours, spic."

I looked up and there stood Sid Phillips, all my worst nightmares in a beefy sweaty body. He loomed over me in a black concert t-shirt, sweat rings under his arms. There was a silver ball in his left earlobe and his dark hair had been shaved over the summer. The future leader of the White Supremacy Movement in America. Ever since our run in at the dress up center he had vowed to make my life a living Hell. And did a good job of it too.

"Well, well, well, Angel Schunard," he rolled my name around in his mouth and spat it out. "Havin' a good first day?"

"Leave me alone, Sid," I muttered.

"Awww not in the mood to play today, freak? How come you never wanna have any fun?"

"When I'm around you, 'fun' is having my tongue glued to a table with hot asphalt."

He colored.

"And for that, you and me are gonna go into the boys room and practice snorkeling in the toilets."

"Um no thanks," I replied. "Poor toilet's probably never had anything like your head down it before. It could get sick."

"Oh you're just full of jokes today ain't you, freak? All right then you asked for it."

I shut my eyes as he went to punch me, but before he could a voice called:

"Problem boys?"

There stood April, her gray eyes glinting. It always struck me how tiny she was. She was like a little Chihuahua, small in stature but tough as nails. She came between us, hands on her hips.

"Excuse me but what were you trying to do?" She had to stand tiptoe to look in Sid's blue eyes.

"Aw, jeez, Schunard, when you gonna fight your own effing battles instead of having your midget friend do it for you?"

"He'll fight his own fucking battles when we are no longer friends, tough guy. Go stuff your pie hole now or you'll have me to deal with."

"Aw your mama! Girly boy ain't worth my time anyway."

As he lumbered away, April made her body shake flailing her arms

"Earthquake!" she cried and the two of us laughed. She turned to me.

"You okay, honey?"

"Yea, fine," I replied. "You didn't have to do that."

"What you'd rather go home with a black eye? Welcome back to the asylum. Come on let's go sit down."

I followed her to a table and sat across from her.

"So," I said. "Make anyone cry today?"

"No unfortunately, but it's only eleven thirty," she grinned impishly. "How'd Lil do this morning?"

"She was a little teary of course, but okay I guess. She wanted her mom."

"What little kid doesn't want their mom on their first day? Whoops-"

She dropped one of her chicken nuggets on the filthy floor. It bounced.

"Whoa! Gross!" April wrinkled her nose.

"Okay, how do they get those by the FDA?"

"By blackmailing the government officials with their own fake diplomas, so my brother says. So check this out, I picked it up in the lobby.

She handed me a neon yellow flyer and I read it aloud

"Westport Youth Club Talent Show. Singers, dancers, acting or any other unique skill. Kids ages ten to twenty. Tryouts Wednesday at 4:30. Ask for Karen. So?"

"So, I want to try out. And I want you to do it with me. It's about time someone else heard that voice of yours besides me and the ceiling tiles in your bathroom."

I blushed. I loved singing. I had never done it in front of anyone, not even my parents, but I had secret dreams of singing in the choir at our church or even in a band with April. She caught me singing a lullaby to Lillian and was always pestering me to 'come out of the melody closet.'

"I dunno," I mumbled. "I don't have official training like you. I'm not good enough to be onstage."

"Says you! Angel, I know you, you're your own harshest critic. You have an incredible set of pipes. Use 'em!"

"You're going to be the famous half of this duo, remember? I'm the behind the scenes guy."

"No, when we were little you said we were going to be famous together. Ang, honey, you've got to take leaps sometimes. You're always trying to stay safe and look at you, you're life's pretty boring." She smiled teasingly. "It's better to regret what ya have done than something ya haven't."

I quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Where in the world do you get this stuff?"

"I'm a worldly woman, babe. Plus, I read my mom's self help magazines."

I shook my head, chuckling. Then I folded the paper and put it in my pocket.

Wednesday came and went, but I didn't go to the audition. April called me after and screamed that she had made it. Then she screamed that I should've gone. And honestly, I probably should have because the next day I found myself being pulled into the auditorium of the rec. center with a large sign saying TALENT SHOW REHEARSAL TODAY on the door. The two of us stopped in front of Karen, the girl running the deal. Karen was a sophomore in high school and what my father called 'a bad apple' with her fishnet stockings, wild red blond hair and made up eyes. April's adoration was evident as she made her way towards us.

"Hi! I'm Karen! Names please." As she introduced herself she moved her head from side to side and snapped her fingers. When she saw us staring she laughed.

"Sorry, random dance outburst. Okay names?"

"I'm April Jones, but could you put me down as April Storm? That's my stage name. I'll be singing 'Wild Horses'."

"Okay then. April…Storm." She recorded it on her clipboard. "April Showers, April Storm. Coolness. What about you, dude?" She looked at me.

"Who me?" I pointed to myself. "I'm not performing."

"Angel!" April groaned exasperated. "Angel didn't audition, Karen, but he's a killer singer. I know we've got time in the schedule, could you maybe let him show you now and see if he could be in?"

"Hey, sure, why not. I'm up for anything," Karen replied.

"April, no, I told you I didn't want to!" I protested. "There are high school kids here! How can I compete with high school kids?"

"Ang, speaking as the little sister of an eleventh grader they aren't as amazing as you're making them sound. Now just get up there and for God's sake have a little fun."

I rolled my eyes, jumped onto the stage and tapped the mike.

"Test one, two, three," I said softly. Heads turned and the room quieted. My stomach churned as I looked at the faces of all these strangers. What in the world was I doing up here? Then I fingered the golden cross around my neck. Mama had given it to me when I was christened. I imagined her there in her lilac housedress and yellow clogs. I imagined it was just her, no one else. The song in my heart rose through my throat like a seed toward the sun, and bloomed between my lips.

Saturday night and you're still hangin' around
Tired of livin' in your one-horse town
Like to find a little hole in the ground
For a while

So you go to the village in your tie-dye jeans
And you stare at the junkies and the closet queens
It's just like some pornographic magazine
And you smile

Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push and you'll be smilin'

I went through the whole song seeing Mama in the darkness behind my eyes. When I was finished there was silence for a moment before the most amazing thing my ears had ever heard.

Applause.

Every person in that room was clapping and cheering for me. They loved the sound of my voice.

At that moment a sort of electric shock fried my brain. My nerve endings tingled and my breath was taken away. I was alive! All I wanted was to keep singing and for them to keep clapping. Keep this moment mine. For the rest of my life.

I heard April tell the person next to her, "That's my best friend up there! All right, Ang, you rule!"

I opened my eyes and came back to Earth. Sliding offstage I asked her:

"Was it good?"

"Are you kidding?" she shrieked. "Can't you hear them?!"

"That was so cool, Angel," Karen said. "Congrats, you're in."

And so for the next month we rehearsed after school. Everybody in the cast was close and I made lots of friends. Our town wasn't big on the arts and we were the outcasts, so we formed our own alliances. The high school kids watched out for us young ones and prepared us for the future. Everybody's talent was incredible and the more I watched them the stronger my lust to perform became. They gave me tips in singing, dancing, acting; anything they could teach me. One girl was a poet and her work was so inspiring I started writing my own. It really helped me make things clearer. The mixed feelings toward my dad and the kids at school, my fears; all of it seemed less frightening in ink on a page. April and I started writing songs together, my lyrics her music and started about talking about starting a band. And yet even with all this, I wanted more. I wanted real teachers like the ones she and the other kids had. The stage was like a fire in my heart and I wanted people to show me how to steady it. It was all I ever thought about. When I expressed this to Karen she said:

"They give all sorts of courses here. If you signed up I think it'd be great for you."

I sunk down next to her on the stage.

"My dad wouldn't like it," I told her. "He calls artists lazy dreamers and says they steal government funding."

"Doesn't read the paper much, does he?"

"Just the sports section."

I sighed.

"I need this," I told her. "I've never felt so good before. I've never felt so special, felt like I belonged. Everybody should feel like that, yanno?"

She nodded.

"Hey, give your parents the benefit of the doubt. I'll give you some stuff explaining the classes. Show them, see what goes."

I looked at her.

"Do you think I could do it, Karen? Do you think I've got what it takes?"

"The talent is there," she answered. "But it's raw, you need to work it. I think you could go far."

I nodded slowly and rested my cheek in my hand, digesting what she said.

I kicked a stray Coke can in front of me as April and I walked to my house. I liked the sound it made. The sky was gray and a storm was just beginning over our heads. All of Karen's paperwork was in my backpack but I didn't have the heart to look at it. It was just temptation of what I couldn't have.

"I don't see why you can't just ask him," April told me. I really wished she'd be quiet.

"I don't want to make him angry. You know how he can get."

"Sure," she agreed. "But that's no reason for you to walk on eggshells all the time. You should at least let him know what's going on. When I wanted to play guitar I didn't let up until my mom and dad knew how important it was to me. I'll still be stuck exploding people's eardrums on the clarinet until I'm seventeen but hey, them's the breaks."

She stopped and blew her long hair out of her eyes.

"Will you braid my hair when we get in?" she asked. "It's driving me crazy."

"Hm? Oh, yea sure." I looked at the foggy sky, distracted. "Hey, anything to hide from my dad for a couple hours."

She sighed and stopped walking, forcing me to do the same.

"Listen up, Ang," she said. "Don't be scared of him. I mean come on he's your father and he's tough, but he's not, I dunno, God or something!"

I was more than a little shocked, both by what she'd said and her casual use of the name of the lord. But then, April was always less religious than me.

"Well, duh, April, I know that." I laughed nervously.

My best friend in the world looked at me for a long time, then she shook her head and we didn't talk until we got to my house.

April had become very deep and philosophical all of a sudden. And I didn't like it. Even though in my heart I knew she was right.

All of a sudden thunder clapped and it started to pour. We shrieked and started to run towards home. We got in and shook off like wet dogs, squealing with the cold.

"Mama, we're home!" I called.

"Oh, sweetheart welcome home! I'm in the kitchen!"

We walked in to find her standing behind the counter. The smell of spices overwhelmed the kitchen and my nose. My mouth watered.

"Oh wow that smells good," April said. "What's cooking, Mrs. Dumott?"

"Huevos rancheros," she replied. "Hope you two are hungry."

"Famished," I said, coming over to hug her. She stroked my dark hair.

"Have a good day, my love?"

"It was…interesting," I mumbled. Then I changed the subject. "I saw Lillian's bag in the hall, she here? I thought Tio was supposed to be home."

Mama sighed.

"Angel, I think you should talk to her. She seemed upset when I picked her up. Her teacher said she got into a fight with another boy."

"Oh no! Where is she?"

"Napping in your room, she won't talk to me."

"Okay. April, I'll be back."

"'Kay."

I went upstairs into the bedroom and found her curled in a ball on my bed sucking her thumb. I approached her silently and placed my hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, baby love, wake up," I whispered.

She rolled over and opened her eyes and sat up.

"Angel," she murmured sleepily. "Hi."

"Hey you. I heard you weren't feeling good, is everything okay?"

She put her thumb back in her mouth, nodding her head yes then shaking it no.

"Well which is it?" I giggled.

She moved into my lap and looked up into my face.

"I got in a fight with Gus today. He was laughin' at my freckers."

"They're called freckles, sweetie. What'd he say to you?"

"That it looks like I had spots of dog poop on my face, and I have red hair because Mommy leaves me outside in the rain and I rust."

"Oh well that was mean of him. So what did you do?"

"I squirted him with my Juicy Juice! …And then I got a time out."

"Uh huh. And you understand why right?"

"Mrs. Wolfe says I need to use my words. But it made me really mad when they said mean things 'bout me!"

"I know, baby, I know. Kids pick on me all the time too and it makes me sad. But never fight with them. You're too smart for that. Don't let anybody make you angry. If you don't get riled up then they won't have fun teasing you and they'll stop."

She nodded and scrubbed tears from her eyes.

"You'll still love me even if I got an ugly face, right Angel?"

"Honey, you don't! Those freckles make you special and beautiful."

She didn't believe me. Then I got an idea. I scooped her up and carried her downstairs."

"Where we goin'?"

"I have something to show you."

We went into the dining room and I sat her down in front of a large bouquet my mother had bought. I pulled out a flower out and showed it to her.

"This is called a tiger lily," I explained. "See? It's orange just like your hair, and it has these little black dots on its petals. What do they look like to you?"

"The flower has freckles!" she laughed. "Just like me!"

"Absolutely. And it's still beautiful, don't you think?"

"Uh huh!"

"And guess what? So are you. You're my baby tiger lily."

I tied the flower in her hair and hugged her close.

"I love you, Angel."

"You too, baby love."

I never called her Lillian again. She was Tiger Lily always.

Later April and I went into our room to do homework and chat. We worked for a few hours before she grabbed her book bag by the window.

"You're dad's home," she said. "If you tell me tomorrow that you didn't ask him I'll be mad at you."

I smiled indulgently.

"Yea, whatever. And if you don't study for that English test I'll be mad at you."

"Ugh, death by grammar!" she moaned. "See ya later."

"Adios, chica."

As she closed the door I thought deeply about the situation in which I found myself. I would ask. I knew I would regret it, but I had to try. The memory of being onstage kept playing over in my mind and I kept trying to wring out the joy I felt to get psyched up.

It wasn't what any father wanted for his son. I knew what Papa wanted of me, athletics, good grades, the church and later a family. I hated sports but I buckled under to please him. I realized now I just couldn't do anymore. Art was what I wanted, what I needed. Papa had always taught me to think for myself and speak my beliefs. And that was just what I would do, come Hell or high water.

So after dinner I went into the living room. Papa was screaming at the football game on TV and Mama was reading I Know why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou.

"Angel?" She looked up at me and smiled. "Come down for dessert, honey?"

"Maybe later. Um…can I talk to you?"

She put down the book, took the remote and switched off the TV.

"Hey!"

"You can watch the highlights on the news. We're listening, honey."

I took a deep breath.

"Okay, good news first. I auditioned for this talent show at the rec. center. And I made it."

Mama beamed. A slight smile crept to Papa's lips. So far so good.

"That's wonderful, love. I was wondering where you and April had been after school. What are you doing?"

"Singing. Billy Joel."

Her smile grew bigger.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" It took a lot for me not to jump at my father's voice. Why was I acting this way? I had no reason to fear him.

"Um…I dunno." Why hadn't I? Had I been so caught up in the joy of it that I felt I had to keep it my secret? Or had I been afraid?

"I wanted to make sure I really wanted to first," I said. "It was more April's idea than mine. So anyway, yea, I'm in this show. It's loads of fun, but…but it's more than that. I've figured out that I really love the stage, really. And that's what I want to do. Mom, Dad, I've got to sing! I've got to dance! I've got to perform!"

After that it all just spilled out. I stood there with my eyes closed talking a mile a minute.

"I've made all these new friends, more than I've ever had. Lots of them are older than me but that's ok because they're all really nice and, and a whole bunch of them say I have real talent, but I still really wanna take some of the classes there so I can get really good and I have all this stuff here if you want to make sure it's safe."

I handed them the pamphlets. Mama put on her glasses and began to study them, but Papa just looked at me, expressionless. It scared me.

"It will cost something," I said softly. "But I promise I'll work really hard and make it all worth it. Please…" I lowered my eyes. "This is so important to me."

I looked from under my eyelashes at my parents. Mama had this amazing glow in her eyes. Joy. Pride.

"Well mi hijo, your father and I will have to discuss it but I think-"

"No, Marie. Angel, I don't think the theater is the right environment for you. Those kids might not be the right crowd."

"I know the age thing. But I know them all really well."

"Not so much the age." He sat up and took my hand in his. "It's just not something I want you involved with. Theater is not for young men in my opinion."

"But there are lots of guys in the show. They're amazing, you should see them."

"I don't care about anyone but you and I do not want you going back there for any reason."

It was a blunt refusal. No apology, no explanation, just "no way." I expected it, but this time I wasn't giving in. I took my hand away and stood up.

"Papa, I really want this! It means the whole world to me!"

"You'll grow out of it, mi hijo, I promise. It would be better I think if you were more athletic."

"But I already play baseball and I'm terrible, and the kids hate me. Wouldn't you be happier if I did something I was really good at?"

He took my hand again, but it hurt a little this time.

"With practice you'll get better at sports or I'll find a game better suited for you."

"This is for me!" I hardly ever raised my voice and never to my father, but the anger was boiling inside me, making my chest feel too tight and my head throb. "Why can't you understand?"

"Don't you speak to me that way I am your father! My word is final!"

Even in my anger I jumped back. But then I remembered April's words and screamed them at him.

"I'm sick of you stopping me from doing what I want just because it's not what you did! You can't rule my life! You're not God!"

Before I could take a breath he lunged at me. I cowered into the corner, but was saved by my mother's voice crying:

"Raphael, don't!"

I didn't feel the sting or hear the sound of skin against skin. When I looked up I saw him standing before me like Moses before the Golden Calf. He looked at me red faced and panting.

"Never again," he whispered. "If you are near any of those faggots you will become one of them and by God I'll never let that happen. Do you understand me?"

We stared at each other for a long silent moment, but in all my stormy emotions fear won out. It always did. I turned my dark brown eyes that were just like his away. He took my silence for submission.

He then turned and stormed out, slamming the door. I stared after him, tears welling up from deep within my soul, before getting up and collapsing next to Mama on the couch. I put my aching head in my hands and wept.

"Mama?" I sniffed in the tiniest voice and she took me in her arms. I rested my head against her breast and tried to calm my racing heart by listening to hers.

"He tried to hit me…" I whispered. "I've never seen him like that before."

"Shh," she soothed, rocking me gently. "You know he'd never really hurt you, don't you baby? He just doesn't know his own strength. It's all right now."

"Why'd I even ask? I knew he wouldn't…It was such a stupid idea."

She looked at me sincerely.

"Angel, my love, don't say that. I know what you want. You're creative. You want to be onstage, you want to make art. She cracked a smile. "I know. You're from my side of the family."

I nodded weakly.

"Yea well, dream's over now."

"Oh no it isn't. Angel, despite what you may think your father and don't always agree. Right now I definitely don't. You may not know this, but I was quite the singer myself once."

I smiled up at her. She didn't know I knew, but Mama had spent her whole life grooming herself for stardom. I found an old shoebox in the back of her closet filled with photos résumés and flyers announcing Marie Dumott and her band Puerto Rican Butterfly. I even discovered a demo tape. She gave it up after Papa purposed and now her only audience was me as she sang me to sleep each night. But I often caught her looking through the box or gazing longingly at a Rolling Stone magazine when she thought she was alone.

"I wanted to be famous more than life itself," she sighed wistfully. "There was a drive in me, a fire. No matter what happens to me in this life it will never be truly snuffed out."

I should have known my beautiful mother would understand the rush that was tearing my apart at that moment. She was a mystery to me, she knew it all.

"It's in me too!" I cried, clinging to her.

"Yes," she murmured. "I know it is. That is why I'm going to pay for your classes."

My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"But…but you can't! Papa told me never again!"

"I can do whatever I please. Baby, I want you to be happy, I see every day that you aren't."

"No, I'm fine, really!" I lied. How could she see? How did she know?

"I'm your mother I know everything." She was even a mind reader! "Now, let me see the papers."

I handed them to her and together we set up my ideal arts curriculum. Voice, dance, drama and creative writing. I was so excited, but still very nervous.

"Mama, I don't see how this is going to work. Papa will go ballistic if I disobey him."

"Well he doesn't have to know." She continued reading. "I'll think of something to tell him

I almost fell off the couch.

"You're going to lie?! You're going to go against him and then lie to him?" I looked at her closely, checking for bolts in her neck. "Mama…"

"I know, I know, but sometimes it's okay to lie if it helps someone you care about. Now let's see…Ah, perfect! Look here my love."

The paragraph she was pointing to read: Young Men's Basketball. Weekdays 4:00 to 6:00.

"I'll just tell Papa this is where you'll be. Tomorrow I'll bring you down there and we'll get you signed up."

I couldn't say anything, I couldn't breathe. I threw my arms around her and kissed her.

"I love you so much, Mama. One day I'll be famous and you and I will sing onstage together. I'll make you proud of me, you wait."

"Oh baby I don't have to wait, I'm already the proudest mother in the world."

Review and everybody gets life size Mark dolls!