If I owned this, would it be called fanfiction? I think not.
Anne
"Damn it!" I cursed myself for wearing such uncomfortable heels. The weather had seemed to be clearing up but as soon as I walked out the door, snow began to fall once more. Trying to maneuver around the ice patches and rock salt was difficult enough in normal shoes, let alone 4-inch stilettos.
I stumbled, mostly in the dark, because let's be honest, the streetlights in Manhattan only cast enough light for you to see the muggers once they're an inch behind you, the remaining few blocks to Mark's apartment. I wiped my feet of as much salt and slush as possible before going in, hoping that the pools of water on the concrete floor would agree with my clumsiness for once and not send me flying on my ass right before an important date.
It's not a date. He just wanted me to have a drink and celebrate his roommate's birthday. That's all.
"No elevator?" I grumbled at the thought of trekking up a few flights of stairs, especially after the difficult trip there. But there were no doors in the lobby, just a few broken mailboxes in the wall, doors ajar, and stacks of what I assumed were old newspapers on the floor below them. The place wasn't exactly a dump, but it definitely wasn't a Four Seasons either. I debated the possibility of simply not showing up and going home, but then I knew I'd put myself through a guilt trip for standing up a sweet guy like Mark. If he was worth the walk over here in heels through snow, I could make four or five floors of stairs.
Cut to me, slightly winded but at the top floor nonetheless. I fussed with my hair for a few seconds before pressing the doorbell. No sound rang out from inside. It certainly wasn't silent, classic rock was emanating through the walls. I knocked softly, then harder. I was about to head home when the door flew open.
"Sorry Anne! I couldn't hear you knocking over the music. I was going to grab some ice, but I can send Collins or someone to get it." Mark held the door open and gestured for me to join him inside.
The loft certainly was… lofty. It was large and open, furnished with mismatched couches and more milk crates than I've ever seen outside a dairy farm.
"This is cool, Mark. Very open, lots of space." I nodded and surveyed it once more.
"It's really nothing special." Mark insisted. "Can I take your coat?"
After taking it off, I was surprised at the temperature. It felt like there was a large fire burning in front of me, but I didn't see a fireplace. "It's so warm in here, how can you be wearing a sweater?"
"I'm always cold," He cocked his head to the side and peered at me through his glasses. "Your cheeks are really rosy, did you know that?" He blushed after his random outburst, busying himself with what looked like a mini-bar on what I assumed was the kitchen table. A door behind him slammed open and a girl came rushing towards me.
"You must be Anne! I've heard such nice things about you." She exclaimed, extending her hand. "I'm Mimi."
"It's nice to meet you, Mimi." I repeated her name in the hopes of remembering it once the onslaught of introductions was finished. "I wish I could say the same about you, but I've only been out with Mark once and he didn't mention all of his roommates, only someone named Roger."
"That would be me." An attractive guy with bleached hair lugged an amp into what looked like a living room. He set it down roughly, rattling the windowpanes. "Roger Davis, nice to finally meet you."
"Anne Hayes."
He cocked his head to the side, similar to the way Mark did a few moments before. "You know, I never thought someone who was a bigger loser than Mark would be as hot as you are. Good going, Mark."
I blushed furiously and wandered over to the table where Mark was resting his head on the table. Out of embarrassment or fatigue, or maybe even both, I didn't know. But I figured I should make sure that he was okay before carrying on with the rest of the roommates.
"Your roommates seem really nice," I sat down next to him. "Quite the character, that Roger guy is."
"You should've seen him during withdrawal. He was the moodiest person I've ever encountered. It was like being in a soap opera or something, except it was only one person. Roger Davis, the Fantastic One Man Show."
"Hey! I heard that!" Roger called from his place in front of the amp. "But it's catchy, maybe I should put that on the fliers."
Mimi laughed and hugged him. "I'd think you were some bearded old man with an accordion and harmonica, so I don't think it's the best way to advertise yourself."
"No, they're cool. Very free and bohemian and it's such a breath of fresh air. They're the polar opposite of the tight-assed mathematicians I'm around every day at work." I rested my head on his arm and wrapped my arm around his waist. "Really, they're not bad. And they've been downright polite compared to other New Yorkers I've met the past few months."
"Can I interest you in a drink?" He raised his head and offered me a cup. "You name it, I can make it. Well, not White Russians. And my martini's aren't that great either."
"Do you have coffee? Because I could really go for Bailey's and some coffee. I had about three cups before I came but I'm starting to feel lethargic already." I stretched and was pleased to feel multiple vertebrae crack.
Mark handed me a steaming up of coffee and pointed to the Bailey's Irish Cream. "Add as much as you like, but not too much. My so-called friends tend to get a little rowdy when they're drunk and do things that are horrible. Their intentions aren't malicious but it always ends up looking that way."
"I'm a pretty sloppy drunk myself," I laughed "So I'll only add it for the taste rather than the desired effect."
"I had a few too many incidents our first year in the loft that I'm usually the designated driver." Mark stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"Oh man, remember the time when he ended up stark naked on the balcony on New Year's Eve?" An unfamiliar voice called, followed by the door slamming.
"Collins!" Roger cried, running over and taking the bags out of his arms.
"Hey there stranger." Mimi hugged him and hung his jacket up. "You're just in time for the celebration to start."
"Where are Maureen and Joanne?" Collins asked, looking around the apartment.
"Last I heard, they got into a fight today over Maureen's nipple piercings." Mark shrugged. "Heard, meaning literally. You could've been deaf and felt the ground rumble with the way Joanne was carrying on!"
"And who's the stranger hiding behind Mark who obviously shares his love for java?" Collins asked, nudging Mark aside. "I'm Tom Collins, nice to meet you."
"Anne." I shook his hand with my free one.
"And what are you? Mark's co-worker? Film subject? Girlfriend?" He teased, punching Mark's shoulder playfully.
"Down, Collins. You're scaring the poor girl." Roger interjected, handing him a drink.
"A Tom Collins? You know me all too well!" He laughed, clinking the rim of his glass to mine. "To Roger Davis, may the years make him less of a self-centered, egotistical bastard."
Everyone raised their glasses. "To Roger!"
He crossed his arms and feigned anger, but he couldn't hide the huge smile on his face. Mimi offered him some of whatever was in her glass but he shook his head. "It'd be best not to temp myself, but thanks." He kissed her forehead.
"You call this a party? Honestly Roger, you're such a sucker!"
"Ugh, I don't think I can drink anything else tonight, let alone more alcohol." Collins groaned from his spot on the floor.
"I hate to break it to you, but it's not tonight anymore. More like tomorrow morning. Pancakes?" Mark smirked, holding the pan towards the mass of people on the floor.
"No thank you." He rushed off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
I tucked my legs underneath me, trying hard not to fall asleep. After Mark's warning, I ended up getting only a few minutes off of my feet the whole night. Though it was fun to watch everyone, I was still on the fringe of the group and I didn't think it would be right to just jump right into the festivities.
"Do you want some?" Mark offered me the plate. "The coffee's not ready yet."
I pulled my gaze from the frosty window. "No, I'm alright. I should probably head home anyway, I need sleep." I quickly swept the room, looking for my shoes.
"So soon? Was it really that lousy of a time?" His eyebrows knitted together in a look of confusion and, dare I say it, hurt.
"No, no!" I jumped up. Big mistake. My legs obviously weren't ready to function after standing most of the night so all I succeeded in doing was falling to the floor into a crumbled heap. "Oh man."
He's probably going to think that I have a hangover. Which means he probably thinks that I had a lot to drink last night and that I went behind his back and drank all of his alcohol. I'm not an alcoholic though, my muscles don't respond well to sudden movements after over-exertion!
"Are you okay?" Mark laughed, crouching down and taking my hands in his. "I know you said you were clumsy, but that was downright hilarious. I don't think I've seen a fall quite like that."
"Thanks." I muttered as he helped me off the floor.
"But you did it with poise and grace, something that I most definitely didn't expect."
Mark pulled me into a hug. It was a little awkward and unexpected, but oddly enough, I enjoyed it. He smelt good, a mixture of soap and deodorant and that little something different that was essentially his own. Even though his sweater was a little scratchy, it was too nice of a moment to pull away from.
"Are you sure you can't stay for coffee?" He pulled away a little and brushed a few stray bangs out of my eyes.
"I really have to get some sleep…" I looked over his shoulder for my shoes. "I'm falling asleep on my feet here."
He pointed to a closed door. "You can sleep here and then we can go out afterwards. Lunch at the Life?"
I thought about it for a second. It was either suffer through the walk home, not only tired but in heels or walk a few feet and get a few hours of sleep in Mark's room, completely going against my "Don't stay over until after the third date" rule.
"That sounds good." I nodded and hugged him again. "You're very hospitable, especially for a guy, you know that?"
I'm sorry if the chapters are spaced out for the next few weeks. I have a lot of AP work that I saved for the last minute. Procrastination is the only way to get things done in my opinion. This story has most definitely not been moved to the back burner, merely bumped a few down on my priority list. How do weekly updates sound? As long as the reviews keep coming, I'll be more than willing to faciliate.
countrybutterfly: It's alright that your review wasn't that well-rounded. A review is a review where I'm concerned. And yes, if Mark played an instrument he would be a god.
Harper's Pixie: I have always figured that Maureen would be a weakness for poor Mark. And that Roger, as wonderful as he seems, would give him a low blow and bring up the whole lesbian thing. So I tried to keep it as realistic, which I hope it was. I fully intend on finishing this and the sequel, but my main concern is that I'm rushing into it too fast and it's going to end up being far too short and then I'll feel the need to rewrite it.
godessofwisdom: I don't mind stories where Mimi dies, but Mark is rarely the focus. So I figured I'd take him from the shadows and dust him of, poor guy. I'm glad you like it, though!
msgalinda: It's nice to know someone enjoys what they're reading. I like your screen name :o)
Cambryn: I'm planning on incorporating Maureen and Joanne a little bit, but Mark and Anne are really the focus of this. Those two haven't been in the past few chapters, but they'll eventually make appearences. And you don't know how nice it is to hear that you think I stuck to their personalities. All that time listening to the soundtrack the past 10 years has really paid off...
L. M. Ward: I sympathize. If I ever meet someone who personifies Mark Cohen Matt Caplan, maybe, I will hold on as tight as I can.
Rock and Sarcasm: I hope that my (straight) Mark is written as well as your slash favorites. And Mark will get broody and upset, but that's a long way away. I'd like to think it takes a lot to get him blue. Your review was very sweet and made me smile.
-Ella