Death of a Muse
Legal Disclaimer-The following characters belong to the estate of Jonathan Larson. I wish no monetary gain, just the opportunity to put this out there before my mind explodes.
Author's Note-All of you, rock. Truly, all of you do. Mark Caplan's Wife-Don't worry, I won't leave you hanging. Sweetie Pie-You see, I did get my flow back. Penta-Well, the reasons are in here, I think they make sense. Please let me know what you think. Yes, there is talk of sex in here, if you're under 13 and reading this, don't be. Thank You.
Chapter 9
Mark tried desperately not to show his utter shock at her admission. Her sexual status didn't matter one bit, but still it was shocking. For her to openly admit it proved she trusted him, but she was guarded about it.
"What?" he asked stunned.
"Don't you dare make fun of me, Mark," Mary said, "I'm a virgin."
"You're kidding," Mark said, and watched as her face fell, "No, you aren't."
Mary shook her head and broke his gaze. She turned from him and went to stare out the window. She turned back to him.
"It's not such a foreign concept, is it?" she said, "I dance maybe 8-10 hours a day. I go to class, then bed. I barely eat, and I barely have time for a social life. I have been this way since I was about 14. Going around with you to find Christmas stuff is the first time I actually saw the city outside of the rehearsal hall and home. That's my routine and my life. I gave my soul to the dance."
"It's not a foreign concept, I don't know if I should be stunned, or applauding," Mark replied, "You're the first one I have met since high school. It's very surprising, that's all."
"Between my work schedule, my over bearing mother, and having several of my early ballet friends die from AIDS, Mark, it's pretty simple," Mary turned to look at him, "I have also been pretty damn terrified, the thought of merely falling in love with someone and getting intimate can kill you definitely kills the mood. No sex keeps you alive."
"You don't think that I?" Mark had to sit down, this was getting upsetting, "I'm not positive or exposed. I keep getting my blood tested though. I'm ok."
"Yeah, and so am I," Mary said, "Dance has kept me committed to staying as clean as I can. I thought I had lost myself in the dance till I met you, Mark, don't you get it?"
"So, you're scared?" Mark asked.
"Freaking terrified, " Mary admitted, looking back out the window, " To death."
The knock at the door ended the conversation. Collins had arrived with his stuff.
Mark edited while Mary slept. She had left them wordlessly, kissing Mark on the cheek and heading for bed as Mark helped Collins fix up the couch for sleeping. Mark tried very carefully not to make too much noise as the other residents of the loft came home, only rolling film and editing, not running the moviola, it's noise a sure alarm for the folks trying to escape into slumber.
Mimi had beaten Roger home as Mark yawned. She had talked to him for a little while, asking how Mary was doing and offering to talk to her in the morning if it helped. Mark was grateful for her offer of help and knew it would eventually help Mary. Mimi then went off to bed; beat from her night at the Cat Scratch.
It was nearly two am as he turned off the light to his editing box and listened to the soft snores of Collins. The door opened as Roger came home, glanced at Mark and quietly signaled at him to meet him on the fire escape. Mark obliged, grabbing his coat and heading out.
"How's Mary doing?" Roger asked, "She ever get to sleep?"
"She's sleeping now," Mark said, "She's really freaked out. I don't know what to tell her or how to help her."
"Mark, I found April, remember?" Roger said softly, "She's in hell right now. Just love her for who she is. She knows it's not her fault, but it still hurts."
"I do," Mark said, "I told her that tonight."
Roger smiled. It was good to hear his friend had finally done the unexpected.
"Good for you," Roger replied, but he studied the worried look on Mark's face, "What happened? Oh god, she doesn't feel the same way."
"No, it's not that, it's not that at all," Mark said, "She wants to take it slow."
"Slow? How slow?" Roger said, "You guys make a great couple."
"Great, more like pathetic," Mark said, "We're both workaholics who don't know how to live outside our art."
"Wait a second, this morning you were all about supporting her wishes to go into seclusion until after opening night," Roger said, "What the hell happened?"
Mark realized that he was about to destroy her trust in him if he revealed what she had said. Roger could be trusted. This he knew. Mary would understand too, Roger was the one he could tell these secrets to.
"You won't believe me if I tell you," Mark said, "But I think our relationship just took an interesting turn."
Roger looked at him. Mark hadn't seemed this detached since Maureen told him she liked women.
"Ah, hell, she's gay," Roger said, putting an arm on Mark's shoulder, "Damn lightning striking twice. She's such a great girl Mark that is just so wrong…"
"Lightning didn't strike twice, Rog," Mark replied, "It's not that."
"And there's nothing wrong with her being gay," Roger continued, "Hell, Maureen and Joanne can fix her up with some of their friends, she can still be part of our circle and…"
"Roger, she's not a lesbian," Mark said again, this time a little louder, "She is definitely not gay."
"Okay then, what is it?" Roger asked, "I know this look, Cohen, you're way too gone for it not to be."
"She's a virgin, okay?" Mark admitted.
Roger stepped back. Mary a virgin. Now, this was interesting. Mark's reaction was unexpected. Mary had sent him reeling. Roger was a mixture of surprised, relived and impressed. A woman that beautiful who was obviously saving herself for just the right person was a rare jewel in this city, let alone the world as he knew it today. She probably had her reasons, it didn't seem like they had sunk in with Mark, and his best friend literally didn't know what to do.
"Let her be about it," Roger said, "It's obvious that she loves and trusts you, Mark. Otherwise, she never would have told you about it."
"Yeah, I was thinking that," Mark replied, "I just don't know how to tell her it doesn't really matter."
"You're willing to wait?" Roger looked at him, shocked, "You really do love her, don't you."
"I'm pretty much toast, aren't I?" Mark laughed, "You know, the minute she started yelling at me for shooting the girls walking down the street, I knew that she was something special."
"She's even more special now than you knew," Roger said, "A virgin. Who would have thought it? Dancers aren't the type to have not, you know."
"She said it's her schedule. She didn't stick to it for the first time in ten years when she met me. I got her to see life differently," Mark said, "Roger, I don't have a clue of where to go with this. I love her so much. It actually hurts to see her in so much pain."
"Don't hurt her," Roger said, "You would be a bastard to pressure her. She needs time and space. The problem is her space is under lock and key. Did they ever find that ex-boyfriend of her roommate?"
"She's supposed to call about that in the morning," Mark replied, "She's been having nightmares about that as well. She did sleep for a little while when you left to go play with the band."
"The nightmares are normal, Mark," Roger dug in his pockets for the cigarettes he knew were there, "You remember I had plenty after April."
Mark nodded. Mary's arrival in their lives had Roger talking about April and for the first time he wasn't heartbroken or bitter about it. It was good to see.
"Give her space, Mark," Roger suggested, "She loves you. You can't ask for more."
"I will," Mark said, "Thanks."
Roger smiled. It was great to offer his friend advice for once. Mark had carried the burden for a very long time. Mark was also shivering, it was cold outside.
"You get some sleep, k?" Roger continued, "She's going to need you more the next few days, she won't admit it, but she will need you."
"Yeah, I should try and sleep," Mark said, climbing back in, "Thanks Roger."
"You're welcome," Roger said, following him, "See you in the morning."