Author's Note: I'm warning you now, this is going to be different. Twist in plots, but I hope you enjoy it. Bear with me, they'll bring out their old selves soon enough. Thank you for your patience, your cooperation, and your reviews.

I also will note that this will be an interchanging point of view between Candy and her father Roger. It is now Roger's turn.

Chapter Two

"Your only day off and you're going to work?"

"I was called in, I have to go," she said hurriedly. She glanced at him and noticed his sorrow and smiled. She sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Mi amour, this is the life we chose."

"Sometimes I wonder why we chose this life."

A bedroom door opened and another door shut from the hallway. They looked at each other and Roger laid his head on her chest.

"Oh yeah. Now I remember."

Mimi laughed. "Don't sound so disappointed. She's our pride and joy. Look what she's done for us. She's made us good, hard-working, clean people."

"She's made us caring parents. I'm not ashamed of our past," he said lowly.

"Neither am I. But what choice do we have?" She pressed her cheek against his forehead. "We all have AIDS. We couldn't have raised her to live if we didn't shape up." Roger pouted, knowing that she was right. She got herself up and patted his knee. "It sucks to be mature, huh?"

"La Vie Boheme," he said bluntly and got up to kiss his wife. "What am I suppose to do all day?"

"Watch TV," she said. Roger shook his head. Oh yeah, this is the life we chose, he thought helplessly.

"I would but it's broken," he said. She laughed and kissed him once more, a bit more passionately this time, and left. Roger sighed and stared at the television. He suddenly heard footsteps and his daughter walked into the living room.

"Candelyn, baby," he said giving her a peck on the forehead.

"Hey dad, I'm just gonna finish up a few things then I'll be on my way."

"What's the hurry?"

"I'm meeting Angela at Angie's," said Candelyn. She was scurrying around the apartment, opening and closing cabinets and closets. She stopped and looked at him standing in the middle of her escapade.

"Is there something the matter Daddy?" she asked.

Roger shook his head and smiled. "Nothing, honey." Candelyn smiled, a smile she inherited from her mother, and went over to kiss her dad on the cheek. Roger smiled and thought this life wasn't so bad after all.

"Love you Daddy," she said.

"Love you too," he echoed back. She continued with her shuffling around. "Candelyn, did you forget to take your AZT?"

It felt sort of strange hearing himself say those words. It used to be that Mark would remind him. Now the tables have turned and everything was changed. Candy looked at him and paused in her footsteps. She headed back to the kitchen counter to take her pills. Roger grinned at his parental authority and straightened his posture. He heard his daughter laugh as he strutted to the television. He pushed a few buttons, but nothing would make the television lose the snow and fuzz.

"Did you call Mark about it?" she called from the kitchen.

"Mark needs a little break. Besides, he charges way too much, and I can make things worse for no price at all." Another laugh. He loved that sound. He fiddled with some wires and finally got some decent sound.

"SAVED! There is a God!" Roger smacked the side of the black box a few times to get a picture. "Come on…" His daughter watched whole-heartedly from a few yards behind. A picture started to form on the screen.

"YES! Quien es tu papi?" He stood up, throwing his hands in the air. "QUIEN? QUIEN?" Then the lights when out. "NO!"

The lights flickered a few times, but then remained off. There was no sun out—the sky was grey and cloudless so there was no use opening the curtains.

"Would you get a candle?" he asked. She nodded and went into the hallway to fetch some candles. "Actually get several. I think it would be nice if we surrounded the place with candles this once."

"Why do we still have candles?"

"Because we're cheap."

"No we're not," she said light-humored.

"Well we should be."

Roger heard her squeal. "Can we get the vanilla scented?"

"Oh, sure, use the expensive ones."

He saw a grin plastered on Candy's face as she brought out a whole box of scented candles. She never openly admitted it, but Roger knew that she loved candles, probably because they use to always light them when she was younger. But then she started getting older, and she locked herself in her room a lot. She only came out for meals and sometimes once a week or so to just talk to them. But other than that, she became very distant. Ever since they explained to her about their AIDS… her AIDS. He and Mimi understood why she felt that way, and they decided that she needed her space. Besides, she still received good grades, and she wasn't doing any wrong, so if she wanted to be left alone, it was fine. They were still happy.

They began lighting the candles around the house. It was beautiful. The orange tint brought out the best of their home, dimming hidden corners that appeared mysterious to the eye. It was all so mystical. It hit Roger just then. It never really occurred to him before, but he just realized for that moment the life he was living in… the life they made for each other. The life full of gorgeous furniture, an actual kitchen, luxuries, computers… It was almost unbelievable. And something felt awkward. It was the smallest inkling, but something was missing. Where's my guitar, he asked himself.

"I'm off to Angie's, Dad." Roger remained silent. "My cell phone is on if you need me."

Cell phones. He never thought he'd own a cell phone. "Sure, have fun." The front door closed and Roger stood there stunned for a moment. God, what just happened in the last two decades? The phone suddenly rang, which made him jump a bit. He picked up his cell phone and answered with a hello.

"Roger? It's Mark."

"Hey Mark, how was the premiere?" Mark had flown to California for a few days for his new movie's premiere. He must have gotten back today.

"Went fine," he said. "Are you busy right now?"

"Actually, Mimi just got called in so I have all the free time in the world. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

He hung up his cell quickly and shoved it in his pocket. He quickly grabbed his coat, locked the door, and went three flights up to Mark's apartment. Good timing Mark, he thought, hopefully I'm not the only one taken aback by all this. He knocked on his friend's door. A middle-aged blonde opened it and smiled. Mark looked the same as ever, except he gained a few pounds. But not much. Surprising too because Roger expected him to have a bit of a beer belly. His friend drank a lot, but not yet to the excess of potential danger. Even if he ever steps up that ladder, Roger knew he'd be there beside him no matter what.

"How are you?" asked Mark. Roger was about to answer when he saw the table filled with beer bottles. Empty ones.

"I should ask you the same thing…" he said looking at him worriedly.

"They're months old. I'm planning to take them to the recycling center."

"An alcoholic environmentalist. Who would have thought?"

Mark squared his hands. "My next documentary."

Roger laughed. Everything was all right. He hoped. Anyway, he didn't want to complain. Mark never bothered him with his drugs back when he was doing smack, and Roger just wanted to return the favor, although it seemed like a very demoralized one. He knew Mark was mature enough to make his own decisions. Out of the both of them, Roger was definitely not the wiser. Or so he always believed.

"So going back to my first question…" they sat down on his huge tiger printed sofa. "How are you?"

"Why tiger?" Roger asked observantly, touching the fabric.

"I don't know. I got a sense of nostalgia when I saw it. Reminded me of something. And no I'm not queer."

Roger raised an eyebrow. "Why would I even consider that after all we've been through? After the pain, hunger and talking until the wee hours of the night?"

"Actually, I took the liberty of making the appropriate calculations, deducted unimportant hellos, goodbyes, brief mumblings in our sleep, and figured that we've only talked for five-hundred twenty-five thousand six-hundred minutes."

Roger smiled. "Is that all? Then we need some catching up to do. Why would I say you were gay?"

"Not only does the couch seem odd, but my daughter seems to think I'm queer too."

"Angela?"

"I know. I didn't have a problem with her switching teams, but when she showed signs that I…" he began to laugh. Roger grinned, happy to see him smiling again. He calmed himself down and shook his head. "How's Candelyn?"

"Wonderful. Who knew that we'd be such great parents?" He meant it seriously and jokingly. But Mark slowly raised his hand.

"I did," he said softly. Roger smiled and nodded. "It's so… strange, you know? I never knew I'd be capable of being a father and yet… she's so different. I mean, operas, ballet? We're rockers for God's sake!"

"It's not just you. It's friends, books, movies."

"I don't know if she even likes the Police!"

"Don't be so hard on her. I remember a certain guitarist religiously playing that fucking annoying tune day in and day out."

Roger thought for a moment. What? Tune…tune… "Oh, I remember." He glared at him.

"Yeah," said Mark smirking. "Musetta's Waltz, good Lord."

"My mom played it once and that's all I remember. It would be a miracle if I remembered the rest of the melody."

Suddenly they began to drift into a world of reminiscent memories, talking about the past. There were moments of laughter then moments of perturbing silence. It drifted them so far into their own little world that Roger almost forgot to ask why Mark wanted him there in the first place.

"So why did you call me up?"

"Huh? Oh." Mark took out an envelope and handed it too Roger. "Guess who?"

Roger took a look at it and his jaw almost dropped to the floor. "Maureen?"

Mark nodded. "I haven't heard from her since Angela was born, and gave Audrey the bird. I never saw her so jealous before and all I could think of was, why?"

"I remember…." said Roger. God, I remember, he thought. Audrey was the last girlfriend Mark had. He didn't love her and she didn't love him. How they were attracted to each other was still a mystery to Roger. At first they seemed great, but there was never any real chemistry. That sort of baffled Roger even more because then Angela was born… which Audrey never wanted, but Mark begged her to have the baby, so he could take care of her. Against her will, she did.

"Anyway, Maureen said she wanted to drop by, but she didn't explain why. It's not an elaborate letter at all." Roger handed him back his note. Maureen Johnson was coming to stop by…

"She's coming today."

"What?" This came to a shock for Roger. "So soon?"

"The letter was sent a week ago, but I must have missed it. I never read mail anymore especially because I'm always moving around. Actually, she should be due any minute."

They all looked toward the door, expecting Maureen Johnson to appear on the other side. Nothing.

"Damn. I thought I had that timed right," he said looking at his watch.

Roger laughed. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"What do you mean?"

"This life. This… this isn't us, is it?"

Mark smiled. "We were kids. We didn't know what the future held. God, we were struggling artists, trying to survive, and thinking how we were going to eat later on that day, where we were going to sleep."

"Your next film?"

"Actually I was thinking musical. Only this time, I'll get the girl and you get dumped by the lesbian."

Roger couldn't help but laugh at his friend's comment. It was times like these he remembered appreciating Mark as his best friend, despite the changes they've gone through. The door quietly creaked open and they both turned their heads.

"Didn't know you felt that way, Mark."

Who else but Maureen Johnson would be standing behind that door? She invited herself in, leaving the door open a bit. She had long hair, tamer, and it wasn't at all curly as Roger remembered it. She was gorgeous. Roger knew she was stage acting now, doing what she's always wanted, although she starred in a couple of films; She was also not afraid to glam it up wherever she paraded. They both stood up, speechless for a moment. It had been a long time since the three friends were in the same room.

"A hello? A how are you? A hug?" she asked.

Roger looked at Mark and gestured him to go on. Mark walked over to Maureen and hugged her warmly, something Roger hadn't seem them do since that New Year's… it reminded them of when they use to be together. Roger approached the both of them and took his turn in hugging Maureen. She smelt expensive, if expensive had a scent.

"You certainly love to cause a distraction, don't you?" asked Roger after pulling away. He was, of course, commenting on her wild clothing. A hot pink mini skirt with shiny blue knee-length boots, matching blue shirt, and a white belt tied around her waist. She also had hot pink gloves, and a white boa around her shoulders.

"Actually, I just started my own clothing line."

They tried to restrain their laughter. "Who…who other than you could pull off a look like this?" asked Mark.

"Who would want to?" seconded Roger.

"For your information, I started this line not for me…but for someone else who valued unique fashion."

"Who?" asked Mark.

"Angel." Roger felt an involuntary smile form on his face. He praised her for showing her caring side through something even if it was as outrageous as an over-stylish line of wardrobe. She may have become more self-absorbed, but her love became stronger as well. It was strange, but then what else wasn't in this life?

"That's what it's called. Angel's One Thousand Sweet Kisses. Angel's Kisses for short."

"You sound very happy and successful," complimented Mark. Roger giggled. He was never good at compliments.

"You look like you're doing well too, award-winning director," she said seductively. Uh-oh, there went that sexy tone Mark had never gotten over. Roger waited patiently for his reaction.

"You haven't changed at all," he said. Roger took a double take at Mark. He thought his buddy would fall for her all over again. Hmm…

"What is that suppose to mean?" she demanded.

"Nothing-"

"You know, maybe staying the same isn't such a bad thing-"

"You guys, cool it," said Roger. "Can we have a decent meeting where none of us is fighting?" His cell phone suddenly rang. Roger checked it quickly. Mimi. Roger excused himself into Mark's bedroom but warned them not to kill each other until they had a referee to pick up the pieces. He took the call closing Mark's bedroom door behind him.

"Mimi?"

"Roger? Roger, you're alone right?"

"Um, at the moment, yeah. I'm at Mark's, why?"

"Mark, he's back?"

"Yeah, and you wouldn't believed who came by. Maureen."

"Maureen is there?"

"Yeah I know- you should see her, she's-"

"Oh God."

"Mimi, what is it?"

"Roger go back. If you don't, they'll kill each other."

"Don't act so overdramatic, Mimi, they're adults, they can handle it."

"No, you don't understand. We just got…in the hospital, she just came in. And Maureen's going to rub it in his face, I know she is. She won't get violent, but you know how she is. Mark's already in bad shape-"

"Mimi, slow down. What happened?"

"Audrey's dead."