Destroyed
SUMMARY: Circumstances arise that force Collins to go back into New York City, but he doesn't go alone – he takes Julia with him. It is there that he his forced to confront his demons and face Angel. Julia meets Mark.
Note: I'm not sure if Massachusetts is a conservative state or not, but for the sake of the story, it is.
Note: I am also fully aware that in the play, Angel dies less than a year after meeting Collins and the group, but again, for the sake of the story and poetic license, he's gonna live for a couple of years at least. It's for the sake of the story.
A week had passed since Collins had revealed his secret to Julia, and things weren't getting any better for him or Angel. Since being discovered in the fucked up state he was in by his friends, Angel was brought back to the loft, where Roger insisted that he stay until things get a little better, whenever that would be.
It was Friday afternoon, and Angel sat on the couch in jeans and a sweatshirt, just staring at the television and lost in his own thoughts. I hate him, his subconscious screamed. FUCKING BASTARD! He can rot in hell! That motherfu-
"Angel?" Mark's voice suddenly broke the young man's depressed thought. Angel looked up with him, his eyes as dead as always with bags so heavy under them that they could carry his entire shoe collection. He narrowed his eyes at Mark, silently cussing him out for disturbing the somewhat peace that had consumed him for the last few hours.
"What?" he whispered, calmly.
"Mimi brought food back. You should eat."
"I'm not hungry."
Mark bit his lip, not knowing what to do… he believed he could never understand what had possessed Collins to do what he did, but all he knew was that Angel was sinking further into his own self that it was becoming dangerous. He was always so extrovert; so lively; so cheerful; so amazingly energetic… and now, it was like he just didn't exist anymore, and that fact alone scared Mark.
He just sat down next to him, careful not to make any sudden movements or do or say anything that could cause Angel to react negatively… even violently. Roger looked up from his seat at the small table in the kitchen, and then glanced at Mimi and Maureen who both were quieter than usual. All of them had the same look on their faces. Fear. Fear that Angel would do something stupid to himself, as they had never seen a couple more in love than Angel and Collins. After learning what happened, Mimi wanted to do nothing more than hunt Collins down and beat the shit out of him, but Roger had calmed her down, knowing that it wouldn't accomplish anything to gang up on their friend and back him into a corner.
Mark clasped his hands in front of him and tried to think of how to support Angel without causing him to do anything rash. For three months now, everyone had to walk on eggshells when around Angel… he wasn't violent, but his emotional stability was well in doubt.
"Angel," he softly began, wanting to take this slow. "You're not eating; it's not helping your condition."
"Why the fuck does it matter?" Angel retorted, causing Mark to tense up a little. Roger got to his feet, and Mimi grabbed his arm just to make sure that he wouldn't do anything.
"I'm dying anyway. Might as well speed the fucking process up, right?"
"Angel, you're sick—"
"No shit!"
"I mean, you're depressed!"
"Two points for Markie!"
"You need help!"
"I don't need anything. Or anyone," Angel's voice deepened, his tone of voice and eyes both darkening to the point it was scary. Roger took a few steps forward, wanting to be there to make sure nothing happened. Angel narrowed his eyes at his friends and sat back, more casually, on the couch.
"I loved. I gave love. I wanted nothing back but his love. I couldn't even get that." He looked up at Roger."What good is giving love when you can't experience it yourself? I've spent my whole life giving love… and I thought I finally had it myself, but I guess I was fucking kidding myself. Again."
Maureen felt tears welling in her eyes – the only thing worse than a fallen Angel, is an Angel where he loses his faith in love… in friendship… in life. It was true, Angel had brought love and life back into their group, and wanted nothing in return… except Collins' heart. And now to have that heart ripped away from him so quickly, it was enough to make even the most faithful person lose any touch of love and even humanity in them.
"You have us, Angel. We love you. And Collins... he still loves you, I'm sure..."
"Fuck off, Mark."
"We're not going anywhere," Mimi stepped forward and knelt down in front of Angel. Roger was tempted to pull her away, for fear of her getting physically hurt, but he stayed in his place. With someone as volatile as Angel at that moment, no sudden movement was a smart idea.
"Fuck off, Mimi."
"It'll get better, honey," Maureen tried.
"Fuck you, Maureen."
The four of them looked at each other, trying to see if anyone else had any bright ideas to at least get Angel to open up to them. Mimi stood up and backed up to stand next to her boyfriend, and she interlaced her fingers with his.
"I wanna kill Collins," she whispered, not taking her eyes off Angel, who now had tears in his eyes.
"Join the line," he muttered. "Angel's gone."
Angel went back to staring at the television, very much aware that everyone was talking about him; looking at him; worrying about him, but to be honest, he really couldn't give a fuck at this point. He closed his eyes and yawned, wondering when the last time he slept was. Fucking bastard… Collins… rot in hell…
Memories started to flood his mind – times of good; times of bad, and the time when he found out about Collins' deception. His heart started the beat so hard that it was hurting, as it always did when he remembered the initial pain he felt… and really, that pain had yet to disappear. It just lingered in his heart and soul, slowly poisoning his blood which was more deadly then the virus, and more painful than a thousand knifes twisting through every vein and artery, and every corner of his heart. Tears burned his eyes.
"I loved him," he whispered and tearfully looked at Mark – the dangerous looks; the anger had all subsided and once again was replaced with pure misery. All he wanted now was comfort.
Mark lowered his eyes.
"I know, Ang. I'm so sorry…"
"And what's worse," he softly sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut even more. "Is that I still do… I can't stop loving him." He then burst into tears and Mark moved closed to him and pulled the petite and emotionally shattered man into his arms and just hugged him… there was nothing more he and the others would like to do than to string Collins up for what he did. But Mark also knew that Collins truly adored Angel, and that there must be something that must've happened that would cause him to lose his mind as he did. He heard something about Collins losing his job or something to that effect, but none of them except Angel really had the full story – and he wasn't at the stage where he could tell them everything without crying.
Angel realized how much he needed his friends as he hugged Mark, and his eyes sparkled with the tears glistening in the dim light. Maureen rushed to her friend's side and hugged him around his waist.
"Hey, Angel," she whispered, smiling. "Look on the bright side… more time for shopping!"
Mimi walked up behind her and swatted her on the arm, causing her to yelp and scowl at the nineteen year old.
"Fuck, Maureen, you should sign up for sensitivity lessons," Mark snapped. But Angel smiled weakly at her attempts to cheer him up to some degree. It was true, when he was Collins, the entire world just disappeared and left them two… so now he had greater freedom to do things he hadn't been able to do for a while. Shop with Maureen. Hang out with his out drag queen friends. But still… no Collins.
"Come on, Ang." Roger sat on the side of the couch. "No one's telling you to stop loving him… maybe you should just, you know, open up to us more. We care about you, man."
"We love you," Mimi added, rubbing Angel's arms. "We hate to see you hurting, babe. Hey! Wanna come with me to the Cat Scratch Club? We'll have some fun, you know… get your mind off things. All of us. We'll all go!"
"Mimi," Roger started. "I don't think Angel would—"
"I'd love to." Angel interrupted and stood up, putting his arm around Mimi's waist and kissing her forehead.
"Thanks," he smiled sadly. "All of you. It means a lot."
"And you mean a lot to us, baby!" Maureen kissed him. "I'm gonna go call Joanne to see if she's gonna come!" she then bounded off and opened the front door, running down the stairs to the phone booth just outside the loft. Mark rolled his eyes at Maureen's one-track mind, but didn't let it bother him. He never stopped loving Maureen, but would he get back with her if given the chance? Hell no. As naïve and even ignorant as the young filmmaker was, he did a few ounces of pride and desire for self preservation in left him. Maureen, as a friend, was awesome to have. But romantically, with her, it was a train wreck. Unfortunately, Joanne chose to learn that the hard way, but they seemed happy with each other.
Mark's lack of a romantic life did depress him at times, but instead of dwelling on it, he just threw himself into his films and being with, and enjoying the company of, his friends. They were his life, and there is nothing that would ever make him hurt them or abandon them. Like Collins did, he bitterly thought. Ironically, he thought it would be Roger who would be more willing to leave them… it would take a lot for him to do that, but if Mark had to chose between Collins and Roger, he always thought that Roger would probably jump on the opportunity before their professor friends. After all, Collins was always a warm, friendly, and extremely loyal man to his friends, and his lover (once upon a time). But after all this affair shit when down, he had just upped and left, without so much as a meaningful goodbye.
All Mark wanted was to experience love the way Collins and Angel once had, but without all the drama at the end, of course. But he kept his mouth shut as he grabbed his coat, and looked over to see Mimi helping Angel to the back room so they could get cleaned up and ready to leave. Roger also pulled on his coat and shook his head, dejectedly, when he realized that Mimi and Angel would probably take another two hours to get ready, and Mark laughed at his friend's expression. Roger just picked up an old, small pillow on the couch and hurled it at his best friend, who ducked out of the way just in time for it to go flying by his head.
"Nice, Roger."
"Fuck off."
"Oooh."
MEANWHILE, WITH COLLINS
Julia had never been to New York City before, despite being from New Jersey, and so as they crossed the bridge she just stared out the window in a sense of awe and wonder. Collins couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on her face as she was experiencing a new part of American culture that she had studied, but never actually experienced for herself.
"This is where you lived?" she asked as they drove through East Village, and familiar settings started to register in his mind, and he slowed the car to turn a corner. His heart gave a giant leap when he began to drive the car down the familiar streets where he and his friends, including Angel, had spent a great deal of time together. He didn't want to drive this way – heck, he didn't even want to come to New York, but he didn't have a choice considering there was a convention that he was supposed to attend, and it was also a place for students to go too, so he offered for Julia to come along, thinking that she could definitely benefit from the experience – both personally and academically. He also offered for a few other very bright students from MIT to attend, and some agreed and had their own ways of getting there, while other declined the invitation, as it was a strictly volunteer thing for student. For professors, of his caliber especially, it was compulsory to attend and thus this was the quickest way to get there. It had taken a lot inside him to actually get in the car, but finally he couldn't delay the inevitable any longer, as he had offered to give Julia a ride.
"Yep," he smiled bravely, not wanting to show the increasing pain he was feeling. It almost came to a climax when he was forced to drive past the same club where Angel had discovered him and Samuel in the back room. Julia eyed him, suspiciously, and could see that her professor had tensed up a lot.
"Everything okay?" she asked, concerned.
"Yeah, of course."
She then looked out her window at the surroundings – sure enough, there were many 'artist-types' that were hanging out in front of buildings, some obvious druggies, and other near-poverty people who all hung out together.
"Wow…" she muttered. "Everyone's so… so…"
"Fucked up?"
"To put it bluntly."
"Yeah…" he replied, sadly. "Including me."
Julia debated whether or not she should bring it up, as to her it was an obvious place of distress for her professor; her friend, and she concluded that it must've been the area where he and Angel met or something. Over the past week, she had stopped into his office almost every day to see how he was doing, and got more assistance on her paper, or just went in there to hang out. Julia was a popular girl; a popular student, and she had other friends and family to hang out with, but she preferred Professor Collins' company as he talked to her like an equal. He did so with all his students, but with Julia especially… he didn't treat her like a student, he treated her like his peer, and told her that he was learning as much from her and the students as they were from him. She loved that idea. And he gave her advice, and listened to her when she had problems. The thing with Julia was that most of her other friends were now working, and she was the first of her family and close group of friends to ever attend college, and getting on the Dean's List. So her family and friends couldn't understand some of the issues she was going through at college, and the few friends she had at college were wrapped up in their own work, understandably, so really she had no one to confide it at her level; her understanding. Except Professor Collins. And for Collins, he was glad to finally have someone he could talk to, who wouldn't judge him or his lifestyle (I.E. being gay, with AIDS, in a conservative state)… and Julia didn't. Rarely did he hang out with other members of the faculty – he didn't not get along with them, they just weren't his style. No, he preferred being with the students, who were as passionate and hungry to learn and grow as he was… their minds were open with possibilities, and he could understand them better and vice versa.
"Is this where you and Angel…?" she trailed off, but he knew what she was asking. He nodded, keeping his focus firmly on the road in front of him.
"Angel and I met over there," he pointed to a nearby building and a telephone booth. "A year and a half ago… Christmas Eve, 1989… I had just called Mark and Roger, my best friends… and then I got mugged."
"No shit, on Christmas Eve!"
"Yeah. I know… anyway, Angel was the first and only person to see how I was. His first words to me," Collins smiled at the memory of his first meeting with the lovely Angel Schunard. "He said, 'You okay, honey?'."
Julia smiled.
"And you said?"
"I said, 'I don't think so'. To be honest, I was quite fucked up. But he offered to take me for some food… take me to a life support meeting… an angel of the first degree is what I called him."
Sadness filled his heart when remembering the good times with his only real love, and began mentally kicking himself for what he had done. He had screwed up the only thing that had meant anything to him.
"I'm sorry," Julia apologized and lowered her eyes, feeling guilty for bringing it up. "You must really have loved him."
"It's cool," he reassured. "Actually, it's quite liberating… being able to talk to someone who—"
"Won't judge you?" she guessed. He chuckled.
"Well, that. But I was gonna say… to someone who wasn't there."
"Ahh, I see."
"I dunno," he sighed and pulled the car to a stop at the traffic lights, and looked at her. "I guess… I just never envisioned my life without him, you know?"
"Can't you fix it? I mean, you seem so unhappy at MIT. You belong here, and you want to belong here, I can tell… Come on, professor," she laughed weakly. "It ain't that hard to figure out."
"Angel wants nothing to do with me anymore," his voice softened and went back to driving the car when the green light came up.
"I was the one that screwed it up, I betrayed him… I gotta respect his wishes now."
"You also gotta respect your own, Tom. You still want him – you shouldn't let him go without a fight… without him knowing how much you love him."
He smiled. It was hard to find such tolerant people when it came to being gay with Aids. After all, it was the early 90's, and there was still much to learn about the disease… the more scientists learned, it seemed, the more they realized how much they didn't actually know about it. Julia was definitely a refreshing change to the accusing, disgusted eyes that had accompanied him from the New York elite at times… she was fast becoming a close friend of his, not just a student. In fact, he was starting to see her more as a friend than a student.
"Thanks, Julia," he spoke with sincerity. "But, I'm afraid it's too late. You didn't know Angel… he's… the life of the room. So much love and life in him, he's probably moved on…"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh hell no… no he hasn't."
Collins raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh yeah?"
"Well… if you two were in love as much as you say you were… there's no way he's gotten past this, Tom. In fact… I doubt he's doing to well at all."
"And how do you know that?"
"Because I've been in the same position…maybe you should go and see him, you know? To see how he's doing? Show him you still care."
"Julia, there's no way I'm going—" he paused, and decided he didn't wanna get in a fight with her about it, despite knowing that all she had was good intentions. He didn't want to bring an innocent woman into the mess he created, and he sure as hell couldn't ask her, nor expect her to fix it.
"Look, can we forget it? I gotta think about this damn speech I have to give… afterwards, you wanna go for dinner? There's an awesome place I know not too far from here…"
"Sure," she grinned. "Sounds awesome."
They continued in silence for the next ten minutes, and Collins' eyes managed to glimpse around at his own neighborhood as they were driving. It remained the same; nothing was different from three months ago when he was last there. But still… then, they found themselves driving past a club. A familiar club. The Cat Scratch Club, where Mimi still danced. Collins could feel the lump developing in his throat, and memories filled his mind of the times he and Angel would be there, with the entire group, watching Mimi dance, and just having fun… but rarely were they pay attention to anything or anyone but each other.
"What's wrong?" Julia asked, snapping him back to reality. "What is that place?"
Collins didn't reply, and he slowed the car, his eyes widening when he realized who was standing just outside the entrance. No fucking way… this is too coincidental. I mean, things like this didn't happen, did they? Not—
"Without a reason," he muttered, absentmindedly.
"What?"
He didn't reply, and the car almost came to a halt in the middle of the street when he sat Mimi dressed up in her dance outfit, followed quickly by Roger, who was laughing and holding her by her waist. They seemed to be sharing an intimate joke. Then, he saw Maureen and Joanne making out against the wall just next to them, with Mark filming all the happy couples, and then…
"Oh God…" he muttered, choking back tears. Angel was holding onto Mark's arm, quietly whispering something in his ear, and then laughing and hugging him just like he always did, affectionately. Collins' breathing became ragged and shallow, and he felt as if he was about to lose all self control. Julia followed his gaze and saw a blonde man with a video camera… a very handsome blonde man… and standing next to him, was probably Collins' Angel… a tall drag queen, complete dressed in drag attire, with a black wig and black heels and leggings... very pretty. Beautiful. And as Collins said, he… she… was full of life – very vivacious and flamboyant. Angel danced around in the street, seemingly happy and passed all sadness. Collins' heart broke at the site of his former lover… not that because Angel was happy, because that's all he wanted for his love – to be happy. But because he wasn't at his side.
"Angel…" Julia whispered.
A single tear rolled down Collins' dark brown skin. All the good and bad memories were threatening to overwhelm him to the point beyond all control, and all they could do was watch all six of them disappear behind the front doors of the club, and all Collins could do was watch, helplessly, and wish that it were him that was with them. They hadn't seen him, and that was probably for the best… Angel had moved on. And deep down, Collins knew it was time for him to do the same, but he just couldn't – and he couldn't, he refused to, believe that Angel had moved on after only three months, especially after the circumstances in which they ended. Angel was much deeper than that, and he could be very vulnerable at times, and the love they shared was deeper than anything else in the world.
"No…" Collins muttered. "It's a façade…"
"What?"
He just stared at the now closed doors, not blinking. "I can tell… I know my Angel. It's fake, a façade… he's hurting more than I realized."
Julia shook her head. "Tom, I don't know… maybe I was wrong, he looked pretty okay to me."
"But that's Angel," he told her. "Never wanting to be a burden, wanting to make sure everyone around him is safe and happy… even at the expense of his own feelings. He doesn't like people to worry about him; to fuss over him… I can tell… he's faking it. Angel never usually fakes anything…" tears slipped down his face more rapidly. "I hurt him so bad… he'll never forgive me… when he's putting on a façade, it means he's hurting too deeply… I can never forgive myself," he then started to drive back at the normal speed limit, leaving the club fading into the distance and he tried to focus on just getting to the convention.
"And I doubt he will, either…"
4 1/2 HOURS LATER
Julia waited in the lobby for Collins to finish talking with a couple of convention's administrators. It was not 10:30 on a Friday evening, and they were both tired and wanting to get back to Massachusetts, and the convention had been a complete success, as had Professor Collins' speech.
"Julia?"
She turned around to see her tired professor slipping on his coat (which happened to be the same coat Angel had bought him on that Christmas when they met).
"Hey, all done?" she asked.
"Yep. Ready?"
"Uh-huh."
"Okay."
They headed out the front door and the steps of the convention centre. Collins yawned and checked his watch…
"Want me to drive, Professor?" Julia offered. "You look beat."
"No, it's okay…"
"Honestly, I don't mind."
Collins smiled, gratefully. "Thanks." He handed her the eyes and they started walking towards where they parked the car, a block down the street. Collins closed his eyes and felt the cool breeze against his face, and breathed in the air. New York air. He missed it so much… he loved the city, he loved the lights, he loved the energy and passion and the fact that it was the city that never slept. He loved dancing with Angel in the streets, being on the rooftops with him, just laying there – talking, cuddling, kissing… he missed it all, and couldn't get his Angel off his mind. It wasn't fair. He seriously fucked up, and now he was paying for it… but why did Angel have to pay for it, too?
In the car, he did his seat belt and sat back, resting his head against the head rest and stared out the window while Julia started the car.
"Tom?" she asked, pulling the car out into the street.
"Hmm?"
"Everything okay?"
"Mmm…"
He closed his eyes, yawning. It had been a long day, and a few long months and he just couldn't wait for time to pass. After all, time heals all wound, right? Well, according to Collins that theory was total bullshit, but there was no harm in hoping at least. That's all he had now.
About five minutes later, Julia turned the car into the next street and pulled the car to a stop just outside the Cat Scratch Club. Feeling the car stop, Collins opened his eyes and looked around, and it took a few moments for him to realize just where he was.
"Julia, why the hell are we stopping here?"
"Go in." she told him. Normally, she wouldn't be inclined to tell any of her professors what to do, but Collins was an except. He was her friend, and she wanted him to sort all this bullshit out.
"What!" he exclaimed, not knowing what she was up to. "What the hell? Julia I'm not going in there!"
"Yeah, you are… professor," she added that last part sarcastically. "Honestly, come on. There's obvious unresolved issues between not just you and Angel, but also your friends. You can't ditch your past, Tom. I know, because I've tried. Go in!"
"Hell no!"
"I'm not driving until you go in there. No matter how it turns out, at least you gotta try!"
"What business is it of yours to interfere in mine!" Collins snapped, angry that she was really pushing this.
"Just stay out of it, ok? I am your professor, you are my student. We should keep things like that!"
"And right now I'm the only one that gives a damn about what happens to you. We can both be adults about this, Tom. I'm not a kid. And I care about you, and you know as well as I do that you have to go talk to them!"
She parked the car properly and switched off the ignition and put the keys in her hand bag. Julia then turned to him.
"Go inside. I promise, if things don't go any better, we'll haul ass outta there and you never have to do it again. But please! Just try."
Collins could see the look in her eyes, and knew she was serious… and again, she was just trying to look after him, because she was really the only friend he had at the moment. Her best intentions not withstanding, it wasn't that easy to confront your past… especially when it was your fault things turned out the way they did. Collins missed Angel next to him every morning. He missed every kissed, every hug, every touch and caress, every time they made love, every look. If there was ever a chance to make things right, this was it…
Finally relenting, he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.
"I hate you for this," he told her. "I should fail you on your next four assignments for this."
"Oh trust me," she laughed. "It'll be worth it. What's failing a class worth when it helps a good buddy?" she winked. Collins gave her an evil look before slamming the car door shut behind him, and looked up at the Cat Scratch Club where he had visited many times before. But now, it was just that much harder to take those next steps forward, literally… and he knew they'd all be there. They were always there at this time each week, as Mimi worked until closing at 2:00 AM.
"Get moving!" Julia called from the car.
"Give me my fucking space, will ya!" Collins challenged her. Finally, plucking up enough courage, he walked up the steps and showed the bouncer the pass Mimi had given him and the others a few months ago. The bouncer nodded and stood aside from the door so that Collins could get through, and he stepped into the all too familiar surroundings of the strip club. Not that it had any appeal to him, of course, with half naked girls stripping around him. But still, it was a good place for the entire group to gather and social and just have fun, and could be themselves without the prying eyes of a judgmental world focused squarely upon them.
The music was blaring and the lights were flashing… it was dark, but he knew his way around. Suddenly, Collins found himself turning on the heels of his feet and high-tailing it out of there, bursting through the door and running down the steps. Julia looked up from the book she had pulled out of her bag.
"Wow, that was quick," she commented.
"I can't do it…" he confessed. "I just can't…"
"Tom—" she began.
"Unless you come with me," he cut her off. She blinked.
"Are you serious?"
"Fuck yeah. I need someone who doesn't hate me, just in case things get bad."
"They don't hate you."
"Oh trust me, they do. I don't think any of them have forgiven me for abandoning them, not just Angel."
Julia sighed and bit her lip lightly, trying to think if that was the best option or not…after all, she could – or would – complicate things further.
"I don't know…" she stammered. "I mean, I don't think there's anything I could do—"
"Hey, you want me to do this, I need you there." Collins sounded desperate now, and he really did need some support. That's how bad things had gotten between him and the group, and his confidence wasn't exactly at its highest at the moment.
"Fine." She got out of the car and slammed the door shut. "But this is all you, Tom. You know you're doing the right thing." Julia walked around the side of the car and stood next to him on the sidewalk.
"No," he said and they began to walk up the stairs. "You know I'm doing the right thing. I know I'm digging a deeper hole for myself."
"Whatever"
A few moments later they entered the main room, to see that it was quite full – not to capacity – but there were a lot of 'patrons' that night. Collins didn't realize that he was gripping Julia's arm for support, but she didn't mind… he had been distracted by this for too long, and it was beginning to affect her, academically, as well. This was for the best, she was sure… for closure, at least.
It was between shows now, and the lights had just come up so Collins was able to scan the room quickly, and found that the entire gang – including Angel – was sitting at their usual tables, side by side, and Mimi was sitting on the edge of the stage, with Roger next to her and his arm around her waist. They all seemed like they were having a good time. But then he noticed that Mark wasn't there…
"I just gotta go to the bathroom. Wait here." He told her, and not waiting for her to respond, he started towards the men's room, leaving Julia standing along in the entrance way of the club. Nervously, she wrapped her arms around her waist, in attempts of self-preservation when she noticed a couple of nasty looking men making eyes at her. How could Tom like coming here? She wondered. Are all bohemians like this? In the typical fight-or-flight mode, Julia was ready to turn on her heels and sprint out of that club in a second if Collins didn't get his ass back here soon, and she nervously started biting her nails. It had been years since she kicked that dirty habit, but now she was in a new, strange, and possibly dangerous place… she really didn't give a fuck. She then began to shift her weight from one leg to another and tried her hardest to conceal her naivety and even innocence… she didn't wanna leave herself open to anyone. Tom get back here, Tom get back here… her mind began to scream and tried to telepathically link with him. Obviously, it didn't work. Come on, come on…
"Hey honey," came a creepy, deep voice from behind her. Too scared to turn around, yet even more scared not to, Julia slowly turned around to see a tall, fat, dirty looking man with a cigar hanging out of his mouth, his hair a mess, a beer in his hand, and sweating profusely. He licked his lips and leaned against the wall, trying his best to act smooth.
"What's a sweet young thang like yourself doing in this place? Haven't seen your kind in here before…"
"I'm…" she stuttered. "I'm just waiting for a friend… he won't be too long."
The man, who looked to be in his mid forties, grunted. "Hmph… doesn't seem like a good kind of man… leaving his girl alone like this in a strange new place…"
"He… he's not my boyfriend," Julia tried to remain polite, but now her eyes were darting around the room, in a panicky state, wanting her professor to get out here and protect her.
"Ahh, a single honey…" the man eyed her up and down, licking his lips again and standing up straight.
"So… where you from?" he started walking towards her, and Julia started backing up against the wall.
"Uhh… um… I… Jersey…" she stammered. She was wearing just a blouse and a denim skirt, so she tried to pull it down a little further as to cover her legs a bit more.
"Jersey?" he repeated, running his dirty , cigar-smelling fingers through his greasy hair. "Nice… Jersey girls are hot… so what's a honey like you doing in here?"
"W… waiting… like I said… I gotta go…" she moved to leave, but he cut off her exit and got to within inches of her. She could smell the alcohol and cigars on him, mixed in with sweat, and it nauseated her.
"What's your hurry?" he slurred. "Wanna go… have some fun?"
"I… I can't," she could feel the tears coming. "I… no. No… I have to go…"
"Well hey, I'll give you a ride… I'll give you an awesome ride… all night long…"
"No, I—"
"Oh come on…" he pressed up against, his body leaning heavily against her and the disgusting man leaned in to kiss her, when a young man came climbed down off a ladder in the corner of the room. He picked up his camera and started pointing it in the direction of a man who was pushing himself on an obviously resistant young blonde woman and he couldn't believe anyone else wasn't noticing.
"Hey, Casanova!" he called over to them, who were only about ten feet away from him. The man looked up and saw the guy pointing a camera in his direction, and he immediately released Julia from his grips. Scowling, he turned and stormed away, without so much as another word to Julia or him. The man climbed down off the ladder and walked over to her, his eyes still following the man to make sure he wouldn't return. He then looked at her.
"Hey, you okay?" he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder from concern. The woman was breathing deeply and very distressed, so he helped her over to a free seat and poured her a glass of water.
"Here," he handed it to her, and she immediately took it and gulped it down. "You okay?"
After a few moments, she seemed to calm down a bit, and she finally noticed the man who had saved her from what, in her mind, would've been a fate worse than death.
"Oh my God…" she muttered, still shaking. He knelt down in front of her.
"You okay?" he repeated.
"Yeah…" she replied. "Thank you so much, I… I just… I don't…"
"Hey, it's cool, no problem," he assured her. "Creeps like that are in here all the time. Security is supposed to be working, but there's only so many bouncers, and I'm actually helping to repair a couple of their video cameras. Otherwise it's every man – or woman – for himself, you know?"
Julia laughed weakly, and couldn't believe how kind this man was being to her. He was blonde, wore classes, and definitely fit the bohemian style that Tom had told her about.
"Yeah… thanks so much."
"Like I said, no problem. You're new around here, aren't you?"
"You could tell?"
"Yeah well… we don't get many of your types in here…"
"My types?"
He shrugged and stood up. "Yeah… you know, preppy college types… sorry, I don't mean offence. But it can get rough in these areas… you seemed kinda lost."
"None taken," she smiled and sipped more water. He fidgeted with his camera.
"I'm Mark. Mark Cohen," he held out his hand.
"Julia Sampson," she replied and took his hand, shaking it, and then allowing him to assist her to her feet.
"And yeah, I'm new… I'm just waiting for a friend, he's got something he needs to take care of."
"And he left you here alone?"
"He went to the bathroom."
"Oh."
Then, without warning, things were interrupted when sparks started to fly, and a crackling sound erupted from one of the video cameras had been working on.
"Whoa!"
"Get down!" he pulled her to the ground, and several people had to duck as the camera fizzled out and more sparks flew.
"Fuck!" people scrambled out of the way.
"Cohen!" one man, who Mark recognized as one of the club owners, shouted. "What the fuck--?"
A few moments later, everything was calm again and the sparks stopped, leaving smoke coming out of the camera. People stood up again, and Mark once again helped Julia to her feet.
"Fuck," he muttered, and removed the camera from around his neck and handed it to Julia.
"Hold this a minute?"
"Sure," she replied, taking it, and walking with him to the ladder. She found a comfort in this man who saved her – he was sweet, handsome (in a quirky kind of way), and seemed cool enough. He climbed the ladder while she stood next to it, in the corner, and looked around. People returned to their business, and chatting and drinking; smoking and laughing all resumed among the guests at the club.
"So where are you from?" he asked, while visually inspecting the camera. He then spotted the cause of the mini-explosion.
"Fucking faulty wiring…" he added, to himself.
"Uhh, New Jersey," Julia replied, fidgeting nervously. "I live in Massachusetts… I got to MIT…"
Mark couldn't help but pause when he heard 'MIT', and thought of Collins. Maybe she knew him… but what was she doing here? Nah… it wasn't possible. Was it?
"This is my first time in New York…" she continued.
"First time? And you're from Jersey?" it was more of a comment then a question.
She laughed. "Yeah, well… let's just say my life was kinda sheltered for a while. New York always scared me for some reason… the crime and stuff."
"Yeah, that stuff will kill ya," he winked down at her and continued fixing the camera. Why couldn't these guys just hire more bouncers instead of trying to go high tech? This was the last place in New York where you'd expect technology to be running good.
"So what you doing in New York?"
"My professor and I," she replied. "We came for a convention for professors and students… it was cool, but kinda dull."
"You and your professor, huh?" Mark teased. "Nice…"
"Not like that!" she retorted, finding it hard to believe how easy it was to talk to this guy. He made her feel at ease.
"He's gay, it's not like anything could happen even if I did like him. Besides, it would be unethical."
Mark didn't hear her say the part about the professor being gay, otherwise it would've peeked his interest further.
"And you ended up here?" he queried further, wondering what a beautiful young, educated woman from out of town would be conducting any business here – in a strip club, no less.
"Yeah, well… like I said, my friend has business to take care of. I kinda forced him, he's not up to it. And he's taking fucking forever in that bathroom…" she looked towards the restrooms, to see if anyone was coming out. But no one was.
Mark finished replacing one of the screwed up wires and then connected it back up to the main power, and then flicked in on. Mimi had convinced him to help out her boss so that she'd get a break for once, so he agreed.
He climbed down off the ladder and faced her.
"Want me to go find him?"
"No, it's okay… I kinda don't wanna be left alone out here anyway."
"Of course. Sorry, stupid question."
"No, thanks so much. It'll be cool…"
Mark looked over at his friends, who were still wrapped up in their own little world, but saw that Mimi had left, presumably to go backstage where she would be getting ready for her next set. He then turned back to Julia.
"Wanna get a drink?"
She hesitated, before deciding that she could trust him – just until Tom got back.
"Sure," she smiled. "Thanks."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: in the next chapter, Collins and Angel confront each other… Julia is introduced to the rest of the group… a fight breaks out.
Please let me know whether or not to continue by leaving a review. It would be much appreciated!