Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson's.
Author's Note: Happy belated birthday, Shelley! Chapter two is up for you.
Collins sat leaning against the corner of the elevator walls, his eyes closed as he strummed a tune on his leg, a tune Angel would play for him often. A simple tune she had taught him to drum out on her pickle tub one rainy night. She giggled sweetly as Collins fumbled with her drumsticks, returning them to Angel and asking if she would show him... just one more time. Angel had played the tune several more times, and finally Collins could drum it out himself. Of course it was a bit slower than the quick pace Angel had acquired over years of practice.
Roger sat beside Collins, his legs crossed indian-style, looking directly ahead into those steel elevator doors. He bit at his lip anxiously, rubbing his hands together for the warmth he– for once in his life- didn't need. As his eyes were glazed over by his thoughts, he pictured in his mind holding onto Mimi who would without a doubt be home by now. Or even strumming Musetta's Waltz on his guitar next to Mark who would film random objects of the loft as he narrated each action he made.
"Collins, what if we die in here?" Roger asked, more of a joke and a reason to break the silence than as a real question. Collins opened an eye, inspecting Roger's face before opening the other and sitting upright.
"Well, our souls will be set free to wander in a dark abyss known as the afterlife for eternity, waiting for the rest of the gang to join them." He gave Roger a smug smile. "Hopefully someone'll be smart enough to bring the Stoli."
Roger stared at Collins for a moment, telling himself Collins was only joking. It was just a joke. They'd be perfectly fine. And with that thought, they continued to sit in silence, thinking their separate thoughts.
"Honeybear, you looked fine in the zebra print shirt, why'd you change?" Joanne asked, standing in the bathroom doorway. She watched as Maureen looked in the mirror, applying a thick coat of vibrant red lipstick to her already bright lips.
"Well Pookie, I thought that it was more of a..." Maureen glanced down at her shirt. "More of a bird sort of day." She ran her hands over the black outlines of delicate birds soaring through the skies of the delicate blue-gray fabric of her shirt. Joanne only smiled, leaning into the bathroom, her lips puckered. Maureen emptied the gap between their lips as they met in a soft peck.
"Well finish getting ready, Roger and Collins should be here any minute now." Joanne said, looking down at her watch. As she began walking away from the bathroom she called, "What do you want for lunch, hun? The Life?" She went through her wallet, confirming that she would have enough money to pay for four people.
"Yeah, sounds great, Pookie." Maureen said, spritzing herself with some perfume that was extremely strong. Joanne could already smell it wafting into their bedroom. "And maybe we could go out for ice cream after? I think that'd be nice, right Jo?" Maureen suggested exiting the bathroom.
She reached her hands around Joanne, who didn't realize how close her girlfriend was until she was pressed against her back. She smiled, giving a nod as she placed her wallet into the deep pocket of her slacks.
"We'll see." She said, turning to face Maureen, placing a kiss on her forehead. And with that the door knocked and an unnecessary squeal came from Maureen as she raced over to the door, her black stiletto heels clanking on the wood floor.
"Roger, Collins." She cried in a sing-song voice as she undid the locks on the door. "I haven't seen you guys in forev-" she paused, blushing. "Oh I'm sorry, I thought you were my friends, can I help you?" She questioned the stranger at the door.