DESTROYED
Chapter 12
SUMMARY: Julia and Mark talk; Angel opens up to Collins about what happened that night… and he remembers a lot more than he wants to.
Angel's boredom was starting to suck the air out of the room, and Collins was feeling it through his boyfriend's constant complaining and need for entertainment, not that he was surprised or anything. No one could really contain Angel's larger than life personality, and being stuck in that hospital bed was doing nothing for him in the sense that he couldn't actually do anything. So he just sat there and tried to beautify himself the best he could – the thing he complained most about was looking like hell, so Collins took out the other make-up bag from just under the bed and told Angel to go nuts with it, and it was working. Somehow, I guess by the powers of his remarkable talents, Angel was actually succeeding in making himself presentable, in spite of the bandages and stitches or whatever, and Collins sat there, amused. It was 2:45 in afternoon and again, there was nothing on television and everything was just a little too quite for their taste. They had no idea of what had just happened between Roger and Samuel, but it wouldn't be long until they did know, but for now things were peaceful, and they were just enjoying each other's company.
"Angel, baby, I don't think there's much more you can do," Collins commented, carefully. "You look fine. Beautiful. I don't think it's possible for you to not look gorgeous."
"Honey, no offence," Angel replied. "But I know what I'm doing better than you. It's just a shame these people don't take care of their patients properly!"
"And how's that?"
"I've barely made myself look okay now, but before…" Angel gave a low whistle. "It was bad. Anyway, it keeps me busy. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Whatever makes you happy…"
"Thank you!"
Collins let the subject drop and they went back to doing their separate things; Angel was doing what he wanted and it was keeping him content, and so the complaining was minimal now. Things were so comfortable between them now that it was like nothing had happened, and that wasn't necessarily a good thing… for the better things became, the more Collins became worried that Angel was withdrawing and be more reluctant to talk about what happened between him and Sam, and that wasn't a good thing, obviously. Angel's innocence was no match for the harshness of the reality that was his life, and his kind of dark innocence just made him more loveable, but more vulnerable… and there was never a time when he was more vulnerable than he was now.
Angel looked at Collins who was simply flipping through what looked like a textbook… and suddenly remembered that the professor still had his professional obligations to take care of, and although the semester was almost over within the next couple of weeks, Collins managed to get a few days off. He told his superiors that a family emergency had come up, and that he would need to take four or so days away from classes, in which he was granted, but wasn't granted an extension to prepare his finals exam for his classes, so he was forced to do that whenever he could, at Angel's bedside. Seeing the somewhat stressed look on Collins' face, Angel reached over and gently touched his arm, gaining the older man's attention.
"What? You okay? Need anything?"
Angel shook his head. "No, I'm okay… what you doing?"
"Trying to get this damn exam together before I get my ass kicked out of MIT again."
"Need any help?"
Collins smiled, touched at Angel's innocent attempt to give him attention rather than take it. He partially closed the book and held Angel's hand to his lips and kissed it.
"No, I got it. You do your thing; I got this."
"I hate seeing you stress, baby…"
"I'm not," Collins insisted. "I'm okay, really. Sure you don't need anything?"
"Yep."
Things fell silent again and Collins continued to examine his book, highlighting several parts of the text and circling bits that he thought he could possible use to add into the exam. He hated this time of year… he taught two classes, both different levels of computer age philosophy, and thus had to write two different exams, which was a pain in the ass, alone. But now, with what was happening with Angel and still feeling the guilt over the whole situation, Collins priorities were more than screwed up. Oh if only he could have the gift of hindsight and foresee what Roger and Mark were gonna say once they got to the room.
He dropped the highlight marker in the book and lightly shook his hand and exercised the muscles in his hand, thinking deeply about the next philosophical he was gonna put in the paper. 2 hour exam. One hour to answer fifteen short answer questions, leaving the remanding hour to write out a fifteen-hundred word essay… the curriculum set by the board was getting easier as time went on… students today had more resources. Better libraries. Of course, the internet. Quicker, more efficient ways of getting information. And best of all, Collins had to hand his final plan by the end of the week or to say that he was in deep shit would be the understatement of the year. Collins' priority would first and always be Angel and his welfare… he'd give his career up in an instant if it were necessary, and these present circumstances indicated that it probably would be, but still, he wanted to wait until after the semester and exams were over with. He cared about his students' education, whether they did or not, and wasn't about to jeopardize them… hopefully things would hold up for a couple more weeks.
Collins picked up the marker again and turned the page and skimmed over the theories that he already knew by heart, and thinking of ten ways his Actual Reality theory could beat them all. But alas, he had agreed, as terms of his conditional re-hiring at MIT, to teach what was set down by the curriculum, so he had to follow it.
Angel finally placed the bag aside, finally satisfied that he had made himself look presentable and there was nothing more he could do, and he sighed – bored. He watched Collins continue to mark the book and make notes, with fascination… the professor was now in his studious mode and it was interesting for Angel who had never seen this side of him before.
"Having fun?" he asked, trying to make conversation. "Collins?"
"Hmm?"
"You okay?"
"Hmm…"
"What you doing?"
"Hmm…"
Angel paused and tried to think of how to get his attention, not that he needed it, but because he was worried… the stress that had been put on Collins recently, last week he could've cared less… but now… and a lot of that stress was because Angel wasn't talking about what happened, and there was a lot of guilt there.
"Baby?"
"Hmm…?"
"I'm sorry."
That one caught his attention, and Collins' head snapped up to look at him, totally confused.
"What?"
Angel shifted his position slightly and pulled he blankets up over his chest some more and looked rather… coy. Reserved.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. Collins put down what he was doing, and stood up and pulled the chair closer to Angel's bed and sat back down. If there was anyway to get his attention, a guilt trip was probably the most effective way.
"Wha—? What for!"
Angel linked arms with him. "I didn't mean to make you worry."
"What are you talking about?"
"I just… I'm gonna be okay, you know. Right? You don't gotta worry about me anymore…"
"Hey, hey…" Collins moved up onto the bed next to him. "What are you talkin' about, Ang? It's not like I could stop worrying about you if I tried! I'm always gonna worry about you…"
"But I just don't want you to be sad anymore," Angel admitted. "You're lookin' stressed, baby. I don't want you to be because of me."
Collins kissed his hands and couldn't believe what he was saying, but understand why he was.
"I'm not sad. I'm pissed off, yeah. When I find him… God, I swear I'll kill him for what he did to you," he stopped for a moment so he could kiss him again. "And… I'll always hate myself for what I did to you, you know? And now, I'll never be able to stop worrying about you… stop wanting to be with you every second. It's just I have these fucking exams to finish and it's just, I dunno… I'll kill him."
Angel wasn't feeling neglected at all, but he hated to see Collins losing his own spirit; it scared him. There was nothing he wanted more than for things to go back to being how they were before all this shit went down.
"I just want things to go back to normal, yeah? And… part of me wants to hate you, but I can't, and it just gets too confusing, and—"
"Angel, shut up!" Collins hushed him and prevented him from talking further by firmly planting his own lips on Angel's. After the initial shock from it wore off, Angel returned the kiss and his hand found its way to the back of Collins' neck, enticing him forward more as the kiss deepened. It was a fun way to silence Angel's sudden outburst, and seemed to do good for Collins in relaxing. He pulled away.
"I love you. Okay? And I'm not upset. A little stressed, but not because of you. Don't go getting yourself all upset again… you'll ruin your makeup and I won't hear the last of it!" teased bringing a small smile to Angel's beautiful face.
"You gotta work on your sweet talk," Angel whispered, his fingers tracing along Collins' jaw line and he studied every feature of the man, feeling his warm breath on his own face.
"Trust me, that wasn't me sweet talkin' ya… but I can… but since you're still recovering I don't wanna get you too excited."
"You're amazingly self-assured, do you know that?"
"Hell yeah I tell myself that every damn day."
"Cute. Funny."
"I know. You've rubbed off on me."
"Oh yeah? There are other ways I can rub off on you too…" Angel playfully stuck his tongue out, reveling in the attention he was getting.
"Dirty mind, Angel… it can get you in trouble."
"I live for trouble darling."
"Not while you're in this hospital bed, you don't!"
"Whatever."
"Uh-huh."
Knock, knock
Both of them diverted attention from each other and looked in the direction of the door as it opened, and Mark peered inside to make sure he wasn't interrupting anything, only to see Angel and Collins in a semi-intimate position, so he took it as an all-clear to enter the room, and opened the door all the way.
"Hey guys," he dumped his bag on a chair in the corner, and partially closed the door behind him.
"Markie!" Angel greeted in an obvious attempt to get under his skin, which it did, as Mark scowled in response.
"Hi Mark," Collins remained nice and got up off the bed. "Where's Roger? I thought he'd be coming with you."
Mark stopped. Should he explain what happened only minutes before? Roger had not sought out medical attention, however as he and Mark walked into the emergency room, the blood on his lips and his partially swollen jaw was a dead giveaway to medical personnel, and after a few moments of arguing with an ER doctor, he finally agreed to get a couple of stitches and so Mark had decided to go ahead without him. True enough, he couldn't hide what happened from Collins and Angel forever, even though they were under enough stress. Angel wasn't even talking about that night, in which it was obvious he could remember a lot of it, so any news that Samuel had taken his violent streak to Roger and himself, wouldn't do them any good… especially for Collins. He felt guilty enough as it is. But they still had to know, before any more surprises jumped out at them.
"Umm… he's downstairs…"
"With Maureen?"
"No, we saw her on the way in… she's gone back to the loft for some reason."
"What's Roger doing then?" Angel took the can of soda off the table (soda which he got from Emily, the charming nurse, who took pity on him after he begged her for a little sugar boost). Collins was way more up to picking up on the subtleties from Mark's body language and nervousness as he sat down at the end of the bed. "Bringing me flowers?"
"I don't know," Mark lied. "He said he'd be up soon."
"Come on, Mark. What's up?" Collins pressed and sat back down in his seat. "You're the worst damn liar. What happened?"
"Mimi's probably got him tied to a leash back at the loft," Angel joked. "That girl's kinky."
"And you would know?" Collins retorted.
"Like I said, he's downstairs," Mark repeated and stood by his initial report. There was no avoiding it… every little thing he did and said would come under scrutiny, as would they all. He sighed, dejectedly. "There was an incident outside a few minutes ago…"
Angel and Collins stared blankly at him, silently imploring him to continue… but Collins still couldn't help but get nervous from the calm, yet nervous demeanor that Mark was failing miserably to cover up.
"What?"
Mark stood up and started pacing at the end of Angel's bed and tried to find the right, delicate words to put this. Now wasn't the time to hide anything anymore, and again they would eventually find out… Roger wasn't as tactful as he was, and wouldn't have a problem letting his anger and frustrations out in front of them. So he turned to the
"Samuel showed up."
"WHAT!" Collins exploded and caused Angel to jump a little, who grabbed at his hand, but Collins stepped away and stormed around to Mark. Angel gripped one of his pillows and that's when anxiety and confusion began to set in. Samuel's here? His mind panicked and soon that panic resonated through his body and he started sweating, and he could feel the pulsations; the quickened blood flow through his wrists and hands, and he became flustered. All of it from hearing Sam's name, yes, but also hearing that he was close by…
"Wh… where's Roger?" Angel stammered. "What happened?"
"We were outside, and Sam and his friend came up to us… he was pissed… Angel, he found out you got AIDS, he got tested… he's got it!"
Angel's breathing deepened and he was hyperventilating. Both Mark and Collins rushed to his side and tried to calm him down, but the thought of Sam running around in the hospital trying to find him, after finding out he has the virus… he burst into tears and felt Collins sit down next to him and gently held him as he cried.
"Where is he!" Collins demanded to know… his voice was low and dry sounding. "I swear I'll kill him… Mark, where is he!"
"I don't know, man! He and Roger got into a fight; in each other's faces… he pulled out a knife…"
Angel gasped and started shaking even worse when he was told that Roger was potentially injured, and Collins held him still at a risk of causing further pain to him, but he kept his focus firmly on his nervous friend on the other side of the bed. Mark continued and quickly added…
"No, Roger's okay. Got a split lip; a swollen jaw. Nothing major. They really went at it. But that's not it…"
"What?" Collins pleaded to know. Knowing Samuel as well as he did, there's no way he'd back down after losing a fight, or being disrespected in any sort of way, so the chance that he was still in or around the hospital was very good.
"You guys know… he couldn't possibly have had a positive test because of what happened on Friday…"
"So?"
"So? Fucking hell, Collins! How the hell do you think the damn test could be positive then?"
The tension in the air was thick, like a cloud of impending trouble was hanging over their heads and Angel was shivering uncontrollably now though it wasn't cold. The evil he saw in Sam's eyes was something that would haunt him for the rest of his life – being the loving person he is, Angel didn't know it was possible for one person to have so much hate, until Sam's dark eyes connected with his own. Remembering events of that night that he didn't even know that he could still remember came back to him and hit him like a ton of bricks, and like a ton of bricks… it was crushing. A tear rolled down his face and reflected the light of the room… it fell across his lips and the salty taste of his own fear and panic soaked into his lips and gently grazed the tip of his tongue, and lingered there. His eyes glazed over and for a few moments, reality became non existence, and all he could see, feel, smell, taste… was that night. Reliving it was the last thing he wanted to do, so that's why he blocked it out… that's why he was so involved with what everyone else was doing, and keeping a happy spirit – because he didn't want to remember anymore. But now he had no choice, and Mark had been right… it came back hard. There was no way he could avoid it, and because he tried to block it out, he didn't know how to deal with it. As Collins continued to demand that Mark tell him where Samuel went, or to at least give him more information than he was willing, Angel just sat there… right then, he couldn't hear his lover and his friend bickering back and forth. He couldn't hear anything. The fear that Sam would find him was overwhelming to his reality, defined by his own senses. Then, everything cleared and returned to normal…
"Mark, what the fuck are you saying?" was the first thing that he heard and looked up to see the two of them in an apparent argument.
"You're the college professor! It's not hard to figure out" Mark replied, his snide remark cut through the air.
"What!"
"He got it from you, Tom!"
Collins stared at him. "Excuse me!"
"Think about it, man…" Mark urged. "The test came back positive… he's got the virus. It couldn't have shown up on a test because of what happened with Angel. You and Sam are ex lovers, it ain't hard to figure out!"
Shocked at the revelation, Collins fell back against the wall. Angel was just as shocked to hear this as he never thought Collins would so reckless as to expose someone else, even Samuel, to the horrors that were brought about by this disease. A part of him felt instant relief that Sam couldn't hold him responsible for destroying his life, but he couldn't blame Collins for it either… but that didn't mean he wouldn't try. Retribution was inevitable coming from a person like Sam, and there was no preparation for it.
And what was going through Collins' mind? Well, not a whole hell of a lot, because he was so sure that Sam couldn't have gotten it from him, however didn't think to accept some of his own words. It was during one time that he had contracted it. There was one time when he and Sam didn't use any means of protection… so really, he shouldn't have been too shocked, but he was.
"Where is he?" he repeated. Now his desire to kill Sam was raging… but more so his anger with himself.
"I don't know! But he is pissed, and is coming after you!"
"Uhh… Mark?" Angel's soft voice eased the tension and both of the other men looked down at him. If he was forced to remember the night he wanted to forget, then he would at least take the next step in repairing his relationship with the man he loved… he would share it with Collins, too. Who knows, maybe it'd do him some good, too, right? In the face of potential danger, it was the least he could do. "Umm… could—could you kinda give me and Collins some space for a minute? I kinda need to talk to him…"
Mark glared at Collins, who just returned the same look, and said to Angel, "Sure. Sorry, Ang. I'm gonna go get some coffee or whatever."
After he left and closed the door behind him, Collins sat back down with Angel. "What's… wrong?" he saw the defeated look in his eyes and saw the impact this latest news was having on him. "Ang, I'm sorry, I— he's not coming near you, I swear… I'm not leaving you, this has nothing to do with—"
"Stop, stop," Angel silenced him. "It's not that, I um… I guess it's just that this has all gotta come out sooner or later, and um, I'd rather I'd go through it with you then by myself, and uh…" he stammered and wiped his dampened cheek with his hand. "Um…"
"Angel, what? What is it?"
Angel pulled him closer and linked his fingers with Collins' – not even a crowbar could tear them apart. "I couldn't bear to lose you again, Tom! Not now… not again… not by Sam!"
"Hey, it's cool, he's not gonna hurt me," Collins reassured him, though wasn't fully convinced himself. Sam was dangerous. That was a fact that couldn't be disputed, but what Angel needed right now was comfort, and not to get worked up by any of it. "Baby he won't hurt me, I promise. What is it you gotta say?"
"I… I… It's about last week.. I remember…"
MEANWHILE, WITH MARK
"Mark?"
"Julia?"
Not expecting to see each other again so soon, Mark stood up from where he was sitting in the cafeteria, as Julia Sampson walked over to him, dressed in neat and casual attire, though still looking like she had an exhausting day.
"How you doing?" he asked with slight surprise. In return she shrugged and slouched down on the other cold, hard plastic chair and dropped her bag next to the table.
"Tired," she replied and rubbed her eyes. "Came to see how Angel was doing… even though I don't know him well. Just concerned, you know?"
Mark sat back down. "Yeah, I get it. Angel sorta has that affect. But I'm guessing you're here for Collins too, right?"
"How'd you guess?"
"Lucky."
"Uh-huh…" Julia then reached into her back pocket and pulled out her wallet, which was covered in stickers and bright colours that Angel would absolutely adore. She stood up and looked over to the counter where she could get some food and a drink… she just needed sugar to wake her up.
"Want another coffee?" she offered.
"Nah, I'm good."
"Okay…"
Mark watched her walk away, and still was intrigued by her… she definitely seemed like the type of person with whom Collins would have a good connection with, and he could see why his friend wanted her friendship, and even wanted to protect her from 'their' world. She seemed kind of… well, perfect. Innocent. Untouched by the torments that many people facing poverty faced, and she seemed to come from a good neighborhood, and perhaps a well-off family. Why would she willing come into their lives and be subjected to the corruption that they were used to, but she obviously wasn't? Mark sat there and thought about what she was thinking… why she'd wanna come into this place, why everyone else was trying to break free? But she cared. An outsider who came from money actually cared rather than judged… that was a rare kind of person to find. Mark had a history of falling in love with the wrong type of girl (I.E. Maureen)… and funny enough it seemed to be the wrong type of girl to whom he was most suited with and most comfortable being around. Don't assume anything, I'm not saying he's falling in love… far from it… he barely knows her. But his history suggests that he does tend to go for the type of woman with whom you wouldn't necessarily associate him with… and that was kinda cool. But with Julia, he just felt intrigued. Mark wanted to know more about her, and maybe a good friendship could come out of it – they were both very loyal to their friends; worked hard at what they did… so there was commonalities there that provided sufficient ground for them to connect with. So who knows what could happen?
At the same time, Julia could feel his eyes on her, and was basically thinking the same thing. From what she talked about the last Thursday night, he was basically an outsider in his own group of friends, who society already considered as being the outsiders… that's gotta be tough. Julia's friends couldn't understand why she was so obsessed with New York and those who came from lower class neighborhoods or whatever. But she was. These type of people with whom Collins lived with and around… they were real. Not materialistic or greedy; they just were content with having themselves and each other to survive and be happy. It was real. No one was blinded by money or the pretentious world where she had been raised in, and she found that the coolest thing of all… it was interesting to study it all.
"Just a coke," she told the attendant, deciding not to eat anything… hospital food was something that was left to be desired.
After she paid for her drink, Julia turned around and faced Mark, who quickly looked away.
"Something on your mind?" she asked as she approached him again.
"Just all this shit that's going down," Mark replied. "Sam came back, got into a fight with Roger… the whole AIDS thing… he has it… from Collins."
"Are you serious!"
"Well I wouldn't lie about it. He's on a war path. Roger is getting stitches in his lip… Collins wants Sam's blood and Angel's emotional stability is on the edge of a knife. Couldn't get more serious than that!"
It was surprising to Julia as to how quickly things were turning to hell for her professor and his lover, and it was a cultural shock to come into this 'world' where values and standards are so different to the ones she was raised with, and she was still in America! Cultural divisions in America were just as big as those internationally, but to see if forcing her friend to become someone who he clearly wasn't. Collins wasn't vengeful. He wasn't normally vindictive. She didn't want to see him get hurt, but she still didn't want him to become someone or something that he would regret later on. Mark saw her confusion.
"Sorry."
"For what?"
"It's just stuff you shouldn't know about."
Julia sat back. "Why's that?"
"Because I can see it on your face, that's why."
"See what?"
"Confusion. Anger. Wondering how can people let this shit happen, when really here it's a way of life."
"Is that surprising?"
"No. Doesn't mean you should be here for it."
She sipped her coke and gazed around at the other visitors to the sick, dying, and recovering…
"How long have you known Tom?" she asked, wanting to know more about all of them, really. Especially her professor. It hit her so hard, regarding just how much Collins had to hide from everyone in Massachusetts just so he could keep an ounce of dignity among his MIT colleagues and students… he had to hide who he was.
"Years." Mark replied, drinking his coffee. "Can't remember how long."
"He's so different from when I met him. Is it like that all the time?"
"What?"
"Having to hide yourself from the rest of the world."
"Here? No. But I get why he would have to when he left," Mark was right and none of them had to hide themselves; no one really thought to do so. Having Julia ask him this now, wasn't surprising, but kind of annoying. She really didn't understand and was having trouble doing so…
"It's so different… so real. I prefer it to back home..."
Mark almost spit out the warm coffee, gagging a bit before he managed to regain control of himself. "What? Look, you really have not lived here… sometimes we don't eat; don't have heat or water or whatever… trust me, it's something you don't want."
"I just want to be real, that's all. Not what everyone else wants me to be."
"Can't be that hard. At least you have people who care what happens with your life."
"So do you!"
"True. Julia, you want to see how it is? Then stick around," Mark challenged. "You'll see."
"Is that a dare?" she grinned.
"Maybe."
"Wanna put money on that?"
"I'm serious!"
"So am I."
"Julia!"
"Sorry!" she laughed. "Honestly, Mark. Lighten up."
"That psycho, Sam, held a knife to me and Roger and threatened to 'gut' our best friend. Lightening up really isn't an option right now."
BACK WITH ANGEL AND COLLINS
Collins held his sobbing lover in his arms, and could barely keep himself from turning into an emotional car wreck either. Angel had just finished telling him of what happened in Central Park, and remembered the words which Sam had whispered into his ears…
"Scream and your blood will paint the sidewalk a pretty red colour…"
The images flashed so vividly through his mind that it was like being there and suffering through it all over again. The physical pain was masked by the psychological torment that ripped through every inch of his soul and tore a hole in his heart which had barely begun to mend. His throat constricted with each sob and release of emotional pain, and his hand squeezed Collins' thigh, as he sat on the bed next to him. The knife that was pressed against his skin had teased his nerves and it was cold and unforgiving, teasing her with its mercilessness as it wielded the power to painful cut her life short, so to speak. His inability to scream for help was only further heightened when Sam threatened to do things to him that would keep him alive, yet in a lot of pain.
"He held the knife under my shirt…" he weakly whispered and raised his eyes to meet Collins', and could see the tears threatening to fall. "And forced me out of the park… he took me to that alleyway where you found me…"
"Angel…"
"Let me finish before I change my mind," Angel interrupted and took a deep breath. "He, um… he… he threw me against the wall… that's when I hurt my arm… he blamed me for everything!" his voice cracked with emotion, prompting Collins to kiss him more and provide a comforting atmosphere. Angel knew he couldn't be hurt now, but he was just scared that Sam would do something stupid to Collins, and it was a fear he could not shake himself free of.
"He threw me to the ground and stood over me, and put his hands around my neck. I thought he was gonna strangle me. And, he hit me over and over again. I tried to tell him about the AIDS, but he wouldn't listen. He wasn't prepared to listen to anything I had to say… I was handcuffed; I couldn't do anything, I—"
With every painful word that Angel could muster the energy to speak, Collins just wanted to take him away from it all… maybe go back to Mass… but he knew that wasn't possible, as this was Angel's home. He belonged here; they both do.
"Angel, you don't gotta explain if you can't—"
"I have you!" Angel insisted, desperately. "Okay? I can't deal with it by myself! I won't!"
"No one's asking you too. Just when you're ready."
"When am I ever gonna be ready, Collins?" he cried. "When? He pulled the knife out and… I managed to break free. Just for a bit. I could barely walk or talk… everything was blurry and dull, I thought I was gonna die, but I didn't want to. Not before…" he stopped, unsure of wanting to say what he was about to say.
Collins frowned. "Not before what?"
Angel shook his head. "Not before I told you that I'm sorry... and that I forgive you… and that I love you."
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Angel's retelling of what happened to Collins is gonna continue through to the next chapter. I just thought this was a good place to stop for now. Sorry this chapter wasn't as interesting as the others, but it sets up for the next ones. Some parts may seem repetitive, and again, I'm sorry. But it's all part of the story and I know what I'm doing... it's all got a purpose.
In the next chapter, Angel and Collins continue to talk. Julia visits them.