AN: OMG, you guys! You have no idea how shocked I was this weekend to find we got a total of 2023 hits! OO :faints dead from remembering:
Alison: She really means that too, you guys. I think she's coming to the realization that people actually enjoy her work. :nudges me with foot: Get up. Answer your feedback!
That Adam Pascal thing was that funny, huh?
Alison: And you obsess over his hair BECAUSE?
Hey, I like the Bon Jovi look, okay? It make him look all sexah and RAWR!
Liv: HEY! ANGEH! ANGEH! (Thank you! )
LM Ward: Thanks.
Mimithebaby: I found out about Adam cropping his hair :CRIES: on the Rent blog site, where he had a video post.
btw, I made an icon expressing my feelings that can be found here: I also have fandom ones, HP/Rent ones, etc.
Kelby: I actually like his normal looking hair, too, but the BonJovi look was all RAWR! And then...he shaves it. SHAVES IT ALL OFF! Ack.
Bel was headed toward the train station, with plans to hit one of Broadway's smaller theaters. It was a rarity that she would head out this way, but then again she snagged an audition for a small group (pre-discovery of Paul's shooting up). At least this could get some of the other things off her mind.
Bel and Meems hadn't reconciled as of yet, and Bel couldn't bring herself to comment to Roger, who, as it were, wasn't speaking to Mimi at all either. For the moment, Mimi was apartment-sitting for Mark and Tara, Roger was still in the loft, forcing Bel to stay with Mo for the time being (also giving Sandy the full run of bathrooms in that apartment).
Anyway. She still needed one more train before she got there. She tapped her coffee cup and leaned up against a column. God, she just about hated her life.
A drag queen strutting his stuff pirouetted next to her. "Don't be glum, honey!" s/he said, "It's a wonderful day."
"Oh, fuck off," Bel muttered grouchily into her coffee.
Roger bit his lip as he got to this guy Paul's apartment. Oh geez, he was insane. Did AIDS affect your brain as well? He made a mental note to ask Collins that when he got back (that is, if the Man was right about this guy, if Rog made it back alive).
Of course, he felt like he was going crazy. Come on, while he could pack a punch, but apparently this guy Paul was "real beefy, y'know? Like he's on that steroid shit, too," not to mention the only guy Roger had beaten up recently was Mark, who really was a wuss.
Whatever, he thought, Just go in, ask the guy if Bel's using and leave. That's all. He knocked on the door. Please, please, please don't kill me.
A petite black woman opened the door, wrapped up in a bedsheet. "Whaddya want?"
"Erm...Paul. Is he...?" Oh God, he was dead. Oh God...
"Yeah." She turned into the door. "Baby, you gotta customer here."
Roger stepped into the extremely nice looking apartment, as the girlfriend of Paul went back into the bedroom. No pictures of Bel to be seen (heck, no pictures of any girlfriends), lots of state of the art electronic stuff around the place.
"Dude, what's you're looking for?" Rog turned around. Paul. The guy fit the two descriptions Roger knew of, the Man's and Bel's occasional ramblings about this guy. And not to mention the fact that Roger was definitely dead.
"Out of the abyss, walked this cow..." Long pause. "ELSIE." Oh God, why did Bel let Mo talk her into this?
Because Mo had found about said audition weeks before the shit hitting the fan, and insisted that Bel do her infamous performance piece. Including the damn cowbell.
"AIIIIIEE'VE GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!" she screamed.
"HOLD IT!" The casting director crossed her hands above her head. Bel stopped and looked at her in the manner of a doe about to be struck by a semi. "Erm, is something wrong?" she asked.
"Are you sure that this is the role you want? Because that's a little..."
"Over-the-top?" Bel squeaked out.
"I would say so..." The casting woman smiled at her. "Look, you've got talent and aura. That's good, especially for theater. It's just...the piece is all wrong."
"Oh." Bel looked down. She was gonna kill Mo...
"Listen. Come and see me in a week, with a piece that fits you more, okay?" The woman ripped off a scrap of paper with her number written on it. "By the way, you live in Alphabet City?"
"Uh...yeah...why?"
"The piece sounded familiar, is all. Last time I heard it, a riot followed...but people were plenty pissed that night. Good luck, Isabel."
Benny opened his apartment door. "Is the Apocalypse coming? Because that's the only reason I can think why you would be here."
"Shut...up..."Roger had one hand clamped over his forehead. "You got a first aid kit?"
"No shit." He let Roger in. "So what happened to you? Get in another fight with Mimi?"
"Why the fuck do you even still care about her?"
"I don't think any thing claiming that I 'still care' about Meems was mentioned. I just asked if she bitch-slapped you."
"Why, wanna trade war stories?"
Benny sighed. "Look, Rog, this is getting old. Me and Mimi? OLD NEWS, buddy. Bury the fucking hatchet."
"Whatever."
"So...what did happen?"
"Bel's boyfriend." Roger dabbed his eye with alcohol. "I made the sheer mistake of confronting him about leaving dope in my apartment, and then he got all into me about how come I fed his whole supply of smack to the New York Sewerline's alligator supply."
"Wait, did he really say that?"
Bel knocked back another coffee. Ugh. She really wanted that part, too! Maureen was so DEAD whenever she got back.
"Oh, honey. Too much caffeine isn't good for you." Oh, geez. The queen from this morning.
"Uh-huh. Obviously, you've never had a ten am casting call."
"Oh dear." He adjusted his blond wig. "Are you okay, or just a New Yorker?"
"No, I am not fucking okay, okay? I'm shacking up at a friend's and I just lost my big break. I don't need a queen-ain't got nothing against ya, but yeesh- asking me if I'm okay?"
The queen titted. "Look, I'm just asking, okay?"
"Well, I'd like to keep my problems to myself." She knocked back another hit of coffee.
"Take a least a bit of advice, then."
"Shoot."
"Don't drive stake any further with your family. And you guys always have an angel watching over you."
As the queen flounced away, Bel felt very compelled to smash her head against the nearest column. It must be a Thursday. She could never really get the hang of Thursdays.
"So NOW what do you do?" Benny asked pouring another beer for Rog.
"Obviously, drag my wounded pride and apologize. Especially to Meems."
"What about the other one...Bella?"
"Bel. Yeah, say something to her, too." Roger took a long drink. "Speaking of apologies, you better come up with a damn good one for Mimi. You have not seen that woman pissed."
"Need I remind you that she kicked my ass once?"
Roger thought back on this. "She wasn't pregnant."
"Oh sweet Jesus." Moment of uncomfortable silence. "So, when's-" sharp knock at the door- "the next show?"
"Shouldn't you answer that?" Rog asked through the continued knocking (which steadily progressed to a pounding)
"Yeah, getting it...eventually..."
Roger raised one of his eyebrows. "Really."
And then, (for those of you who might have seen this coming), the inevitable happened. "POOKIE! COME ON, OPEN UP!"
"Wait a minute..." Of course, the screech alone would have confirmed it, but the 'Pookie' clinched it. "YOU FUCKED MO!"
"WHAT'S IT TO YOU, ROG?" Maureen yelled. "COME ON, THESE BAGS ARE HEAVY! OPEN THE GODDA-" Before she even got the rest of the wail out, Benny threw the door open. "-amn door." Maureen grinned. "Hiya babe."
"Get the stuff?"
"Ooh, you betcha."
Roger looked at Benny, then to Mo, and the rinse and repeat. "You two, do whatever the kinky hell you want. I'm going to find something to beat this mere thought out of my head."
"Hey!"
"I DIDN'T MEAN IT THAT WAY!"
PS: Btw, I absolutely LOVE Maureen in that last bit. So her.
Alison: The whole Bel doing Over the Moon is pretty funny too.
:nods: Oh, Roger has a concert in the next chap!
Alison: Is this so you can put another song in here?
Um, Roger's a musician. I would think he would need a song.
Alison: Uh huh.
Oh! And Mark and Tara come back! YAY!