AN: Sorry!!!! Xtreme lack of muses and other random things have kept me from updating…but I guess it's worth the wait. Of course right now my biggest problem is creating some kind of timeline…but what the hey.
And now…responses and disclaimers for previous reviews:
anon: Yeah, well, I'm working on the asterisk thing. The new quick-edit feature isn't helping at all, though.
Jan: Okay, while I'll admit that there are similarities between the two, there are some differences. Mimi's sister's name is just Isabel, but everyone calls her Bel (reasons will be explained at some point in time). As for why Bel's with Mimi…well, I don't want to give away any spoilers.
Kelby: Tortured Marky, huh? I've got two more reasons: Collins and Cindy. Hee hee.
Liv: I thank thee kindly!
And for my dear friend Rose, a special treat…by the name of Theo.
I own any unfamiliar characters.
"Explain to me why we're in a tux shop." Collins leaned back against the clothes racks, and watched Dave rummage through what seemed like thousands of accessories.
"Because I'm giving Tara away, and she thought it was only right for me to do the stuff for the guys. Mimi's gonna do the exact same thing with the girls."
"Has she-" Collins broke off into a long series of hacking coughs.
"Tom, honey, are you okay?"
He nodded. "Just a cold."
"You're sure?"
"I'm fine, Dave."
Dave smiled and then pecked Collins on the cheek. "I don't want you to be sick for the wedding!"
The wedding? "Dave, has she set a date yet?"
"Well, no. But I was thinking Halloween at the earliest."
"Explain to me again why Dave and Collins have to come along," Tara said, lugging a suitcase into the rental car's trunk.
"Because, my mom wanted to meet them. And I, um…"
Tara stared at Mark for a second, and then slapped him. "You told her? I thought we were going to do that later?"
"No, I didn't tell. God, Tara, do you think I'm that stupid? I just said he was good at picking out fabrics. And that he was redoing the apartment."
"That's all?"
"That's all."
Meanwhile, back up at the loft…
"How come you and Roger aren't going?" Bel asked, peering out the window.
"I don't know…Roger doesn't even seem phased by it." Mimi wrote some things down. "How about lavender and ivory?"
"For us, yes. For the guys, hell no."
"I guess we'll get a darker color or something…Bel, is everything okay? I mean, you're a little out of it."
"No," Bel said, in a faraway voice, "I'm fine."
"Your mom won't mind us, will she?"
"Huh?" Mark turned around. "You mean about you guys, right?"
"Uh, yeah." Dave sat back in the seat. "She's not gonna kick us out of the house or something, right?"
"Mrs. Cohen? I don't think she'll even care," Collins popped up, "Mark, remember the last time you had dinner with her?"
"Unfortunately."
"What happened?" Tara was driving, so she couldn't join in as well.
Mark sighed. "I had him, Roger, and Benny up right after we all moved in."
"And right before Hurricane Maureen-"
"Shut up. SO, I have these guys up, and my mom think it's funny to bust out my old home movies, and…"
"Marky, hon, are you still playing around that old camera?"
Roger and Benny snickered. "Yeah, Marky's still using it," Roger barely managed to get out.
Mark, age 22, blushed. "Jesus, Mom, I'm in film school."
Hanna shook her head. "Oh, that's all he ever used to do. Run around with his father's film camera making movies about, oh, I never knew…"
"High school, Mrs. Cohen," Roger grinned at Mark, having been the focus of many said films back in the day.
"Documentaries, Mom."
"I've still got a few lying around in the attic. Hold on a second."
To Mark's utter misery, all five of them sat and watched every single film. By the time the last one was finished, he started to turn off the projector. "Wait! Mark, there's another one here!"
He stopped. "Nah, Mom, that one's really stupid." Well…more like embarrassing. It was from Nanette Himmelfarb's graduation party, and things had gotten a little out of hand.
Make that a lot out of hand.
"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad…"
Mark put his head down in his arms. Two straight hours…
"…we're watching this thing, and then, right there in his eight feet glory, Mark shows up, running around in nothing but his boxers," Collins said.
"What?! You stripped and had Roger film it?" Tara started laughing.
"I was drunk," Mark muttered.
"Oh my God," Tara managed to get out, "That's beautiful. I can't see you doing it, but now there's that huge picture in my head. That's great Mark."
"And, obviously," Collins said, with a big grin on his face, "Mark hasn't been back since. The next time Mrs. Cohen saw him was at the Life three years ago to meet Mo."
Bel opened up a jar of concealer. Shit, she was almost out. She shook the thing, to catch the last few drops on her finger, and then started dabbing her arm.
She winced as she hit a sick yellow bruise on her right upper arm. It didn't hurt two days ago. But that's one thing Bel had "learned"- it doesn't hurt until it's over.
She laid down on the bed and curled up. She needed to get away. For a very long time.
Roger walked into a music store. Talk about long time, no see. The last time he remembered being here was only what? Two, three years ago? The Nirvana poster behind the counter had been replaced by the Foo Fighters (not really much of a change there, if you wanted Roger's opinion), and the definite smell of weed was lingering around.
But he did find what he had been looking for.
Roger pulled out the CD from the five-buck bin. Two years. Two years since the last-the only, really- Well Hungarians album came out. Where were they now? Roger didn't know, it wasn't like any of them gave a fuck about him.
"Man, you buying something?"
Roger looked at the guy at the counter. "Nah, just looking."
The sales guy looked at him for a second. "Do I know you?"
"Nah."
"No way, man. Shit, aren't you that dude from the Hungarians? The one they kicked out?"
Why, out of everything, did the guy have to bring up that? Roger actually felt some red getting up to him. "Yeah," he sighed, "that's me."
The guy grinned. "Shit, man, they was fuckin' crazy when they did that. You wrote some serious shit back in the day."
"Thanks."
"Seriously, man, I listen to that thing all the fuckin' time, y'know? Your shit's heavy. I fuckin' love it."
Roger tried to smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."
"Man, where've you been? Seriously, there's this band that sounds just like you guys."
Whoa. Roger hadn't been informed of this. "Really? What's their name?"
The guy sighed. "Okay, it's my band, but still, we're awesome. Here." He slid Roger a tape labeled "No Vacancy/Heartsick."
" 'No Vacancy.' I like it."
"Man, you gotta hear us live. We're playing at Roxy's this Friday. Just come in and ask for Theo."
"Um, okay." Roger began heading toward the door. "Thanks, I guess." Now, that was fucked up.
PS: A disclaimer about Roger and Theo… Theo is from the completely awesome film 'School of Rock' and is played by the one and only Adam Pascal. Normally this would cause conflict in a fic, but my Roger was (and still is) played by Constaine Maourolis (sp), who looks nothing like Adam. (Think Roger as being very skinny, long brown hair, and really into the grunge look). Anyways… REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!