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Chapter Two A/N: Perspective switch! Third person, focus on Collins. Pretty self-explanatory. Oh, and the OCs: I don't want them to be main characters, but I have to pull in other people. I'm trying to restrict myself to the number of swings and understudies in the cast, however, so there shouldn't be an over-abundance of them. And sorry this one is so horribly short.

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Chapter Two: You're Not Alone

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"Hey, you're Collins, right?"

Collins looked up at the manager. "May I help you?"

The young female-to-male crossdresser nodded and asked again. "You're Collins, right?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?" Collins tried to think if he'd . . . uh, liberated anything from Life lately. Nope. Did he owe money? He didn't think so . . .

"Look, Mark Cohen called in sick to work today. I took the call myself: he's sick as a dog. I got a bad feeling, and I was just wondering if you could possibly just go over and check up on him, it'd put my mind right to ease."

"I'm sure his room-mate is taking care of him . . . " Collins started to say.

"Honey -- " Tony collapsed in the chair across from him and grabbed his hand. "If his room-mate were there, the room-mate would have called. He was that sick."

Collins frowned and thought a moment. Was Mimi to the point where Roger wouldn't even head home to help Mark? But if he didn't know Mark was sick . . .

Tony squeezed his hand. "Cohen's a good kid. He's been working himself to the ground these past couple weeks, so he may just be sick from that. But I've got a notion, and my notions aren't usually wrong."

"Fine." Collins sighed and pulled out his wallet. What a way to start my Saturday. And I didn't even get to finish breakfast . . . Tony shook his head.

"Don't worry about that. If this thing with Cohen is just me being an idiot, well, you'll have a free breakfast for indulging a silly Southerner. If not, then it's the least I can do."

Collins nodded again and took off for the loft.

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"Mark!" He called up. "MARK!" He paused for a response -- nothing. "Shit. IS ANYONE IN THE BUILDING AT ALL?"

"What the fuck is going on?" A very sleepy woman on the first floor demanded, sticking her head out the window.

"My room-mate won't throw down the key." Collins flashed her his most charming smile. She groaned.

"Oh no. Not you again. I remember you. I thought you moved out."

"Only staying here a week, ma'am, I promise."

"Fine." She snapped, then vanished from her window. A minute or so later, the building's door opened.

"Thank you very much, ma'am." Collins hurried in and up the stairs. She snorted and went back to her apartment.

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By the time Collins had gotten to the building, Tony's worry had infected him. When he reached the door to the loft and found it unlocked, the worry grew into full-fledged concern -- and foreboding.

He gently pushed opened the door.

"Fuck," he said softly. He'd frozen in the doorway. "Fuck! Mark!"

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