Disclaimer: Though they are fictional characters from a show, they are based on real people. I do not own these people or the people who own them.

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Too Much Jealousy

Philip was standing behind the rope letting people in, as usual, when George showed up late.

A woman with big, blue hair stepped past Philip and they kissed each other on either cheek and Philip swatted at her behind as she skipped inside. He was too busy focusing on ignoring George to be as picky as he usually was about who he let in. It wasn't until George got behind him and rested his chin on his shoulder that Philip was forced to acknowledge his existence.

"You're going to get your cakey makeup on my fabulous outfit. Kindly remove your chin."

"Philip, you can't still be mad at me."

"I can and I am. Besides, you're late for work. Your annoying crossdresser friend has had to check all the coats tonight. I imagine it's interrupting a nap she could be taking or something."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I was--"

"With Marcus, I suppose. Quite understandable. He can't very well take over your life without, you know, taking over, can he?"

"Philip.. he's not. I was talking to some guys I met. They've got a band and they're looking for a singer! Isn't it lucky?"

"Lucky as a broken mirror. I'm thrilled, darling. Really. Get in there and get to work."

Other than the fact that Philip sounded less than thrilled, to say the least, the line of people were getting visibly impatient.

George had no choice but to walk into the club and get to work in the coat check. As Philip watched him go in, he rolled his eyes and turned to the next person in line.

"'bout time he finally left," said a girl wearing a small pink vinyl skirt that matched her shockingly pink hair.

"Mm, quite. Hello, darling! I love the pink! Very shocking, very urban, very trashy. It suits you."

The next person in line shocked Philip even more.

"Marcus. What do you want here?"

"I came to see George. I need to talk with him."

"Pity. George is working and you're a bitch. Don't you have some beer to drink and women to seduce?"

"Ahaha." But there was no smile. "Philip, please? It's really important."

"Fine. But in and out. Don't step a foot into my club. It's the one thing of mine you can't steal. It's too big."

As Marcus went in, another figure appeared behind him.

"Speaking of big! Susan, darling! You're looking fabulously grotesque."

"Oh, Philip. What would my night be without getting insulted by you?"

"It wasn't an insult. It was the closest thing to a compliment I could give you looking like that."

"You're so sweet."

"I know. Isn't it wonderful? I don't even have to try!"

"Was that Marcus?"

"I don't know. Was it?"

"Your not still sore over him and George are you?"

"Sore? Me? I think the only sore one is Marcus. You know how those virgins can be."

"Very well, then, Philip. Be elusive."

"I'm not discussing this right now, Sue. Least of all with you. Are you going in or not?"

Sue clapped a hand on Philip's shoulder and gave him a wan smile as she stepped inside.

The next man who stepped up to the rope was a tall, thin boy wearing a blue and black striped sweater and red plaid pants. He put his hand on Philip's shoulder as he leaned up to whisper something in his ear.

"Do my shoulders say 'touch me' tonight? What is this? And besides, that sweater is hideous. Come back when you can-- well, don't ever come back."

He brushed the boy off and sent him away, tossing his hair out of his face.

When he finally closed the rope for the final time that night he went inside to oversee things inside the club. As badly as he wanted to just stay out front to avoid accidentally overhearing any questionably cute things George and Marcus might be saying to each other, he figured, if nothing else, he could go in and kick Marcus out.

With this new idea in his head, Philip stuck out his chest and swayed into the club, making a stop at the coat check. Rather than seeing George and Marcus talking as he'd expected, all he found was Marilyn laying on the counter in an extremely short dress filing her nails.

"Where's the boy, Goldilocks?"

"Talking to Marcus in the back."

"Should've guessed. And get off there! You'll frighten them all away with your obscenely white legs. Among other things."

"You're just jealous because you could never pull this off."

"No, I'm jealous that my life doesn't consist of lounging about filing my nails when there are things to be done. Now get up! Up! Now!"

"Alright, alright. You don't have to screech at me."

"I was not screeching. I was being.. emphatic."

When Philip left, Marilyn didn't move, but opted instead to begin filing the other hand.

Philip pushed his way through the sea of coats to the back room where he found George and Marcus, not talking as Marilyn had said, but doing something else entirely.

He had entered the room talking, telling George to get back out front but fell silent when he saw them.

Marcus zipped his fly, blushing furiously and George rose cooly to his feet, wiping at the corners of his mouth.

"Hullo, Philip," George smiled and kissed Philip on the cheek on his way out front.

His thumb and middle finger were over his eyes; trying, without much luck, to erase the vision he'd just seen. When George kissed him, he wiped his cheek and then waved his hand after George almost frantically.

When he opened his eyes, Marcus was looking at the floor sheepishly.

"You.."

"Philip, I-- it just sort of.."

"Shh! Shut up. Just.. don't speak right now. No, get out of my sight. Out! Out out out!"

For once, Marcus didn't protest and did as he was told.

If what had happened affected Philip in anyway, no one knew. Marcus left and George sat silently at the coat check, as he should have been doing all night. Philip had stormed off to the dance floor to mingle and to forget about what he'd seen, he went to the bar.

He told no one about what happened that night.