Chapter Two
Maureen Johnson downed a glass of ice water as she watched Joanne scurry around backstage, checking on lighting conditions and microphones and the television screens. According to Joanne, Maureen should be using this time to practice her lines.
Maureen scowled. She didn't like this at all. Performance art shouldn't be planned like this, it should be spontaneous and come from the moment, not planned out to include every dramatic pause. She'd never had lines before. This is what she got for hiring a lawyer as her production manager.
"Hey Joanne!" Maureen called out the next time she flew by.
"Yes, Maureen?" she asked, pausing to shift a pile of extra cables in her arm.
"Well, I was thinking we should scratch this whole thing and I'll just perform whatever comes to me. I think a more intimate performance will be more effective to the audience."
Joanne narrowed her eyes. "You can't be serious," she said slowly.
"Of course I am." Why was it so hard for Joanne to see that she was right?
Joanne was about to speak when the door crashed open and Mark flew through it, looking deeply troubled and a bit deranged. Joanne managed to look even angrier then she had been when she caught sight of him.
"Mark, thank God you're here. Tell Joanne that all this planning will ruin the show."
Mark didn't say anything, instead coming up to her and gripping her shoulders, staring into her eyes and panting slightly. Out of the corner of her eye, Maureen saw Collins and Roger bound through the door, looking tired but slightly amused.
"Maureen, you can't go on tonight," Mark said, staring at her intently.
"Why not?" Maureen hoped his reason was plausible. Anything to stop her from going on and performing something planned. She'd lose all her credibility.
"I still love you!" Mark wheezed. "You have to come back to me!"
An angry growl escaped from Joanne's throat, and Maureen was worried that she was going to attack Mark, but she stayed in place.
"Mark, honey," Maureen said slowly. "I'm with Joanne now." She felt guilty saying this. It had never stopped her from cheating in the past.
Mark hung is head, looking close to tears. "But I need you!" he whimpered. Roger snorted. Maureen frowned. How could Roger be so insensitive to Mark's feelings?
"Don't you love me!" Mark asked, growing hysterical.
"Pookie, I-"
"This is what I was afraid of!" Mark said, finally letting go of her shoulders and sliding against the wall, sinking onto the floor. He let out a moan.
Maureen squatted next to him on the floor, grabbing his knee to hold herself up. "Mark," she said, "You'll always be special to me, but-"
She racked her brain for an excuse. She could say she was a lesbian, but she knew she would, and had, sleep with anyone. She could say she was with Joanne, and she was, but not exclusively, as Joanne liked to think.
"But I've moved on," she said, settling on an excuse.
"But I can't move on!" Mark said, his eyes pleading with her. "I think about you every night. I can't stop. I'm so depressed, Maureen. Sometimes I even think about... suicide." He said the last word in a whisper.
Maureen stares at him, appalled that her Mark could have such terrible, dark thoughts. When she heard Roger and Collins trying unsuccessfully to stifle their laughter, she turned on them, fire in her eyes. "Stop it! This isn't funny!"
When they didn't stop, she stood up, walking towards them furiously. "Get out!" she yelled, pushing them towards the door. "Joanne, you'd better go too," she added. "Me and Mark really should talk."
"Maybe," Mark suggested quietly, "We should go for drinks, and let them stay."
"You're right," Maureen said, hoisting him off the ground. Maybe some beer would cheer him up. "Let's go."
"But Maureen," Joanne called after the pair as they walked out the door, her whole body seething with jealousy. "What about the protest?"
"We'll do it tomorrow," she replied, rejoicing inside that she won't have to perform the ridiculous act. "One day won't make a difference."
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"Well, I had no idea Mark was such a good actor," Collins said, fishing around inside his coat for a cigarette, watching as the large metal door closed behind Mark and Maureen.
"You mean he wasn't being serious?" asked the woman in the corner, who Collins still didn't know, a look of relief stretched across her face.
"Yeah," Collins replied. "Mark's not that emotional. But what I can't figure out is why he's acting."
"Hey," said Roger to the woman, "Aren't you Joanne? Maureen's girlfriend?"
"Yes," said Joanne stiffly. "And her new production manager."
Roger snorted, and Collins remembered all the things Mark had to do when he'd held the job. "Sucks for you," Roger said.
"I'll have you know, Maureen and I have a great relationship, working and otherwise."
Having lived with Maureen and Mark during their relationship, both Collins and Roger knew that this statement was highly unlikely, due to Maureen's promiscuous behavior and controlling nature. Collins was detained from commenting, however, when he found a cigarette in the last pocket of his jacket. Roger wisely decided to keep his moth shut.
"Collins and Roger, right?" Joanne asked, pointing at each of them in turn. They nodded, and she continued, "Well, I hate to leave you, but I'd better go tell all the people the protest's canceled."
Convince Maureen to cancel her protest. Benny's words from earlier popped into Collin's head uninvited. "Oh shit!" said Collins, putting two and two together.
"What is it?" Roger asked.
"Mark. He must be taking up Benny's offer!"
"He's selling out?" Roger asked, concern etched on his face. "Why?"
"I have no idea. But he can't be thinking. He's going to regret this tomorrow."
"We have to go find them!" Joanne said from across the room, obviously eager to separate Mark and Maureen.
"Yeah," said Collins, stubbing out his cigarette. "Let's go." They threw open the door and chased after Mark for the second time that evening. Maybe they were inventing a new Christmas tradition.
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After following the two men to the performance space, Mimi had been eager to sidle up to the guy in plaid pants and introduce herself to him. However, the men had gone straight through the door to backstage, and considering the noises coming from inside, Mimi and Angel had judged it best not to go in, but to wait for the men to come out.
It was an interesting myriad of sounds coming from inside. A high-pitched, distressed voice was mostly heard, followed by a soothing woman's voice, and sounds of occasional laughter from near the door. Mimi and Angel couldn't resist listening at the door.
It seemed that Mark, the one who the men had been chasing, was pleading with his ex-girlfriend, who had left him for a woman, to take him back. It seemed to Mimi that his words were too over-the-top to be real.
For fear of being caught, they would periodically scurry away from the door when it seemed someone was going to exit. After a few false alarms, Mark, accompanied the woman, left together.
"Well, I hope they're happy," Angel whispered as they leaned against the wall in what they hoped was a casual manner. Mimi couldn't stop herself from giggling.
A few minutes later, the men burst out the door, accompanied by yet another woman, and broke out into a run. Mimi let out a moan of disappointment. "Why are they always running?" she asked.
"Do you want to tail them again?" Angel asked.
"No," Mimi said, knowing that they would only lose them again if they tried. "We need to take action." And then she was off, going as fast as her shoes would take her, and soon found herself next to the guy. "Where's the fire?" she asked, sliding her arm through his.
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but said, "We're trying to stop our friend from ruining his life."
"And the entire soul of bohemia," added the other guy, who was now accompanied by Angel.
"Sounds tough," Mimi said, "Want some help?"
The guys exchanged glances, and then the guy in the pants shrugged. "Sure. I'm Roger."
"Mimi," she replied with a wicked smile.
"Don't I know you from somewhere?" Roger asked as the group set off down the street. "Besides from when I helped you up earlier."
Mimi knew exactly where he had probably seen her before, at work. But she just gave him a thin smile. "Beats me."
Roger and Collins explained the situation to Mimi and Angel as they searched for Mark and Maureen at the nearest bar. When they weren't there, they searched bar after bar, moving throughout town.
"This is hopeless!" Joanne said, exasperated, after searching their fifth bar. "We won't find them in time to save the protest or to stop them from sleeping together!"
Joanne's jealousy might have been funny if the entire future of Tent City wasn't at stake. Mimi sighed. "There's one more place we can try."
"Where's that?" Angel asked.
Mimi took a deep breath. She hated telling people about her job. "The Cat Scratch Club. That's where I work." At everyone's confused expression, she elaborated. "I dance."
Thoughts?