AN:watching the Rent trailer on OnDemand. Again.:
Alison: What is this, the twentieth time?
Me: Shush. Anthony's on...
Alison: Oh please. You know, I could just have you watch this again, and again- Hey, what have you come out with now?
Me: Fine. I'll stop it to update.
Alison::muttering: Four more months, four more months...
Me: Well, yet another update, probably the last one before I head backoff to the great halls of Ship. Whee!
Pertaining to aliceinwonder's question: Mimi has a slight chance of having an AIDS baby. It'll only pass on if a.) the baby has a tear in the skin during childbirth, b.) Mimi breastfeeds it, or c.) there's this biological thing with rh cells that's really too confusing for me to explain. And even if any of the above DID happen, the baby would one have HIV. Lots of HIV+ people don't automatically developAIDS, and can even live long and full lives.
Alison: What's she saying is that she hasn't thought it out that faryet.
Me: Shut up.
Alison: Meanwhile, your biologial professor couldn't figure how come you knew EVERYTHING and HIV/AIDS?
Me: Again, shut up. Marky's back on.
Alison: Oh GOD.
"You, Marky, are dis shish kabob, and I am dis steak..." A completely drunk Maureen twirled herself into a booth.
"Shish kabob?" The brand new Mrs. Cohen whispered.
"Old news." Mark rolled his eyes.
The reception was in full swing at the only place that would make sense for them to have it- the Life. (In fact, the manager relieved Mark's outstanding tab as a wedding present. Every other one of the loftmates who had similar tabs, however, were, in a word, screwed.)
Joanne was still holding onto Mark's camera ("No way are you getting this tonight," she taunted earlier), Dave and Collins were dancing, Roger was jamming out oldies with that back-up band (currently still playing "Fat Bottomed Girls" after numerous glares from Mimi), Benny was keeping his eye on Maureen, and, compared to that Christmas Eve, this affair was a walk in the park.
Of course, Mrs. Cohen and other various parental figures were not in attendance back then. But then again, ANY private party should have been a walk in a park after that night.
But enough dwelling on the past.
"What time are you guys going to Jersey?" Mimi asked, twirling her virgin daiquiri.
"Jersey?" Hannah swivelled her head around. "Mark, what is she talking about?"
"Mo-om...I can't do a fancy honeymoon. Atlantic City's the most I'll pay for one."
Hannah sighed. "Honestly, if I hadn't let it slip to that-" she started muttering something about Mark's dad's new wife (could Mark even CALL her his step-mother? Especially given the fact that that marriage took place when Mark was nineteen)- "about this party, he actually got into his bank account."
"Dad gave us a wedding gift!" Tara and Mark glanced at each. "What is it?" Tara asked. Hannah surrendered a padded beige envelope to them, which Tara opened up with a nearby steak knife. "MAUI!"
"Maui! Jesus, Cohen," Benny whistled. "Even Alison and I didn't hit that big."
"Yeah, what'd you have, all-expense paid trip tp the Hamptons?"
"Not funny, dude."
"He's right," Tara murmured. "Are you sure Mark's dad paid for all this, Hannah?"
She waved her hand. "Oh, just call me Mom now. And yes. The good for nothing decided to do something for his only son."
"Wow..."
Mark rolled his eyes. "Didn't Cindy and Jack get something like this too...?"
Bel climbed up the steps of CyberArts, grabbing her skirt so it wouldn't catch on something and get ruined. She was meeting Paul later on, but the whole wedding garb (albeit living in New York) was hardly club material. (She had, on the other hand, consulted Maureen who said that the top was fine, just a pair of low-rise jeans might work.)
"Sandy!" The little pup came running up to her adopted owner, yipping. "Shh. It's like midnight." Bel wiggled out of her bottom, and slung it over her arm. Sandy placed her front paws on Bel's skirt, then ran off and skidded to the bathroom, where she promptly started sniffing around the toliet. "OUT," Bel said, snapping her fingers. Unfortunately, the puppy had decided NOT to listen to her.
Sighing, Bel changed her clothes and locked the bathroom door. "Bed. Now."
"Mo...Mo...MAUREEN!" The person in question opened her eyes slowly. "God, you friggin' asshole, do you need to scream?"
Benny and Collins heaved her drunken self onto their shoulders. "Okay. Three blocks to the transit," Collins wheezed.
"And another four to her apartment once we get off," Benny finished.
"Dude, I am not asking how you know that."
"Guess I shouldn't mention her wet bar, huh?"
Mimi stretched out on the bed, rubbing her tummy. Man, if Roger EVER got his act together...
Nah. Not thinking about that. Baby first. Marriage later.
Maybe much later.
God, Meems, she thought, What would Angel say right now? He would have said...he would say...not to worry. Bring that beautiful baby into this world and get the hell in the bathroom- Wait.
Mimi shot up as Roger burst through the door. "WHAT THE FUCK!" he spit out.
"What? What's wrong?"
He grabbed her arms and pinned her down to the bed. "Where are they? How're you hiding them?"
"Roger, what the fuck are you talking about? What is it I'm supposed to be hiding here?"
He threw her arms back at her. "How could you? HOW FUCKING COULD YOU?"
"WOULD YOU MIND TELLING ME WHATEVER THE FUCK IT IS YOU'RE SO WORKED UP ABOUT HERE!"
Roger stormed out and headed toward the bathroom, and emerged five seconds later with a handful of baggies.
Baggies, which, obviously, both of them recognized on the spot.
"Oh my fucking God," Mimi whispered. "How- Roger, I-"
"Oh, what? You weren't doing this behind my back! Huh? I can't believe you, Mimi!"
Okay, enough was enough. "How come those aren't yours, huh, Rog?" Silence. "Strike a nerve?"
He pulled her close to his face. "You fucking know I wouldn't get back to this shit again."
"Yeah, I'm like killing our child here." She ripped herself away from. "You are so thick, Roger," she said, prompting slamming the door behind her.
Mark gripped the armrests. Tara just looked down from her crossword puzzle. "Scared of flying here?"
"Never flew."
Tara just shrugged. "Neither have I."
Mark turned his head at her. "How the hell did I go through with that last night?"
She smiled and kissed him. "Because, hon, you knew that I would sit through shit like this, and not to mention the inevitable. That's why you married me."
"Thanks for calming me down."
Ladies and gentlemen, Flight 283 New York to Maui is prepared for take-off...
"Bel." Paul looked over his shoulder. "I thought you knew I had my things there. I mean, you couldn't bring it with you?"
"Um, sister's friend's wedding, I was a little preoccupied. Besides, I can't remember you ever telling me to get your stuff."
"It's not that!"
"What's going on here, Paul?" Bel narrowed her eyes and seemed to automatically channeling the elder Marquez. He twitched nervously. "I just owe some...guy...some cash..."
"That's it? Cash?" She rolled her eyes. "Oh God, Paul, just hit up one of your buds, for Christ's sakes."
Roger kicked the fire escape ladder. God, Mimi. How could she fucking do that to him? Forget him, how could she fucking even think about doing that with April on the way? Everything they've been through, and yet she's still at it? God, that little bitch-
"Well, it's Lover Boy! You live up to your name, eh?"
Roger glared down at the street. "What, you looking for your biggest client? She went two floors down."
"Who, Cutie Pie? Nah, I's got morals. I wouldn't sell to her now wit that kid and all." The Man raised his eyebrow. "It's yours, ain't it?"
"Pfft. Yeah." Roger sat down on the escape. "What do you want anyway?"
"Almost forgot there, Lover Boy. I've got some primo shit in there, but I ain't got it yet."
"So...wait, you mean-"
"It ain't mine yet. I got this Tough Guy as a go between, he's owing me some cold green here. Whaddya you know?"
PS:
Alison: Wow, you go from drunk, funny Roger to pissed off Roger in one chapter!
Me: Yeah, well, with the movie and all, I think it's best for him to go back to his normal habits.
Alison: What about him and Meems?
Me: I don't know. Now shush. Jesse's singing.