"If that's the way you feel about it, you can just…just…get lost!"

"Fine! I will! And I'll sit down and wait for you to come crawling back to me!" Maureen turned and stalked away from Joanne, fuming. That anal retentive, obsessive compulsive, controlling, tyrannical…she couldn't even think of any more words that described how horrible Joanne was being. Who was she to complain about Maureen "flirting" with the waitress? She wasn't Maureen; she didn't know what she was thinking or anything. She wasn't the boss of her.

Maureen flopped onto a bar stool, still enraged. As she surveyed the rest of her friends, she only felt worse. Why did they get to feel so happy when she was having a terrible fight with her girlfriend? Why did Angel and Collins get to make out on the table when Joanne wouldn't even consider her lips right now? Why did Mimi and Roger get to look at each other with those big, loving eyes when Joanne wasn't even looking at he right now? Why was Mark so chipper, flitting here and there like some damn hummingbird?

Fuck them all! She didn't need them, she didn't need anybody. They had it better than her, so she had had it with them. In fact, she wished she'd never met those…those creeps!

Maureen's black mood was reaching its climax at that moment, and she would probably have forgotten everything she had just thought in a few minutes if a very heavy, very hard something hadn't smashed into her head at the exact moment she mentally declared that she wished she had never known her friends. As the pain snuffed her thoughts out and she plunged into a swirling pit of nothingness, that last idea spiraled around her: I wish I had never known them…wish I had never known them…never known them…never known…never…

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Maureen sat up and rubbed her head. Damn, that hurt. She had no idea what had hit her, but whatever it was, it hadn't been gentle. She…also had no idea why she was in Central Park now, instead of the bar at the Life. As Maureen looked around, she realized that she was lying on a bench in the park, and she could feel the cool wind blowing over the bare skin on her arms. Sitting up, Maureen shivered and rubbed her arms. The trees were barren and the grass was brown and coarse, with hard clumps of snow dotting the terrain. Maureen hated it when the park seemed so dead; it was scary to her, like looking at a corpse. Ever since April had died, Maureen had hated lifeless things.

As Maureen looked more closely at her surroundings, she realized that April must be more in her thoughts (however screwed up they were) than she realized. One of the two females in a group of four a few yards away looked vaguely like the redhead…

Maureen's eyes widened and she sat up. That redhead didn't look vaguely like April; she looked exactly like April. The same red hair, stiff with spray, the same turned up nose and mouthful of large, rectangular teeth, the same cheery, bouncy aura…it couldn't have been more like April if it was a horror movie clone. And now as Maureen looked at the other three people, two men and a woman, she began to recognize them. The girl had long, tangled brown hair and deep brown eyes, a Latina with a beautiful face. The man who she was clinging to was average height with slicked back, short blonde hair and square glasses. He had a square chin and disgustingly tasteful and fancy clothes. The other man had short, dyed blonde hair, a spiky muzzle of a beard, slightly grungier clothes, and one arm wrapped tight around the April look-alike. If Maureen didn't know better, she could swear that she was looking at messed-up versions of Mark, Roger, and Mimi.

Maureen got up and slowly approached the group, stepping tentatively. What was Mark wearing? Why was Mimi hanging off his arm? And how the hell was April still alive?

"Mark? Roger? What the fuck is going on here? Mimi, what're you doing with Mark? April…what the fuck?" They turned and stared at her, eyes cold. Only April looked slightly friendly.

"Excuse me, miss," said Mark condescendingly. "Although I think you have us confused with some other people, I would like to know how you know our names. I certainly don't know you."

"What? Mark, Pookie, stop playing around and listen. Why the hell is April—"

"Pookie? Did you just call me Pookie?" Mark asked, sounding angry. Roger, Mimi, and April all stifled giggles. Maureen glared at them.

"Yeah, I know you hate it, but seriously, Mark, get over it already. You guys, why is April here? I mean, coming back from the dead is not something to joke about, so quit it and tell my why the hell—"

"Back from the dead? Now you're just getting weird, stalker-lady," said Mimi, looking down at Maureen, raising her nose in the air in a way that Maureen knew Mimi would never do. She started to feel slightly scared. Why were they doing this to her? How was April still alive?

"Guys, snap out of it. It's Mo, Maureen, your annoying, hyperactive anarchist girl. Your ex-girlfriend, Mark? C'mon, people, enough with the joke already!"

"All right, if you don't leave now I'm calling the police," Mark threatened, taking a step forward. Mimi pulled him back and stood on tiptoe, gently kissing his ear.

"Mark, baby, don't do that. You'll just be up late with the cops, and you know I hate that…" Mark smirked and leaned down to kiss Mimi. Roger, who had been nuzzling April, tried to make her kiss him, but she wouldn't look away from Maureen. She looked at Maureen like a grownup watching a little kid pretend that she's a princess or a space-woman.

"Listen, I think you're a little confused. Just sit down and get some coffee somewhere. Here." April reached into her pocket and fished out a couple dollars, pressing them into the stunned Maureen's palm. "Buy yourself something hot to eat and drink with that, 'kay?"

"But…but…" Maureen could only stammer in shock as the group headed away, kissing and murmuring with the respective couples. Her mind felt like a bomb had exploded and wiped out everything she knew for sure. A thought crossed her mind, but she pushed it away. No, that's crazy even for me…

"hey, wait! What about Collins? Where is he? He'll listen to me!" Maureen cried, running up to them. They whipped around, faces shocked and angry.

"What the hell do you know about Collins, you stalking bitch?" demanded Roger, advancing menacingly on her. Maureen narrowed her eyes at him.

"He's one of my best friends, you idiot. Now where is he? Tell me!" Mimi glared at her, and Mark looked really angry now. Only April looked sad. She ignored the others and spoke softly to Maureen.

"Um…Collins died months ago."