1Talk about quick updates! I really love this chapter, so I wanted to get it up really quickly. And before you ask, April's speech is, in fact, by me :D I'm so proud of myself. It's gotta be one of my personal bests :3

Rock n' Roll Life

By Donna

Chapter Six: Boys Don't Cry (The Cure)

"I... I don't know if we should do this..."

"Angel, don't be afraid."

"But, Mark, I... I got a really bad feeling about this."

"It's not gonna make you look bad in anyone's eyes, seriously. Don't worry."

"Fine," Angel grumbled. She took the hairdye out of the packaging. "I still think this is a bad idea."

"C'mon, Angel! We're recording... worse comes to worse, I can fix my hair by the time we're on tour."

"Okay..."

Angel opened the color mousse and put it in Mark's hair, looking at the packaging for direction. She tried to block out the rather gleeful woman with collagen-filled lips smiling back at her with deep purple hair. She grumbled as she made sure she got every inch of Mark's hair. She wiped her hands on her old Misfits shirt. "Now... we wait."

Mark grinned, looking rather odd without his glasses and his hair up in mousse.

After thirty minutes they washed Mark's head and dried it. Angel bit her lip, keeping his head away from the mirror. Mark pushed against her hand and looked into the reflection. He grinned. "I like it!"

Angel nodded. "Good."

"Now," Mark said, handing her a pair of scissors.

Angel's hands shook nervously. "What!"

"Come on! Snip away!"

Angel gulped. "It's not... it's gonna look like..."

"I don't care. Just do it... or... or I'll kick you out of the band."

Angel rolled her eyes. "Fine... it's gonna look like a rat's nest..."

"Oh well."

Angel took a lock of his hair and snipped. "I can't believe I'm doing this..."

After styling and a wardrobe configuration, Mark was complete. Now it was time to show everyone. The usual crew was going to be at a danceclub nearby tonight and they were ready to show their little art project.

"You ready?" Mark asked.

"Hold on!" Angel said, running next to him. "Lemme get this shirt off..."

Mark's eyes bulged. He covered his eyes as he heard material being flung on the floor. "Take a look, Mark," Angel begged.

Mark dropped his hands and gasped. "Wow..."

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Roger, April, Maureen, Collins, and Mimi waited patiently at the front of the club. They were dressed to kill. Roger wore a tank with handguns on it and a big, studded belt. April was all over him, her too-short green dress continuously showing too-much leg. Mimi sat on the curb, playing with her gold dress, and talking to Collins. She loved Collins. He was exactly what she wanted to Angel. She played with the bill of Collins' green beanie. "How many of these do you own?"

"How many shoes do you own?"

"Nice."

Maureen's leather legs twitched. "Where is he?"

Roger looked at Collins and said, teasingly, "I think your girlfriend's cheating on you!"

Collins rolled his eyes, grinning. Angel and Collins' relationship was taken with open-arms. Mark admitted they were probably one of the most sickeningly sick couples and Roger used it as a good thing to build song ideas from.

Collins looked up. "I see them! Hey, Angel! Hey, Mark!"

Angel and Mark ran up to them. Everyone gasped. Angel looked obviously stunning. She wore a strapless zebra dress and extra-high heels, and Mark... Mark was entirely different. His hair was ruby red and snipped in complex layers. He had kohl-rimmed eyes that made his eyes look electric blue. He wore a striped three-quarter sleeve shirt and, yes, boy's pants. He blinked, glassesless.

"What happened!" everyone asked.

"Makeover!" Angel chirped, "Could you believe he's had contacts for ages and he just never uses them? They're not even the right prescription."

Roger gasped. "This is awkward."

"You cut his hair, didn't you, Angel?" Mimi asked, playing with Mark's hair.

"Yeah," Angel said. She looked at the door. "Come on, guys! We're here to dance, aren't we?"

April nodded. She yanked at Roger and led him inside.

Maureen grabbed Mark's arm. "Come on, Pookie."

Mark gulped. Now for the next step of the metamorphosis of Mark Cohen. "No."

"What?"

"No. I'm not... no. Maureen, I can't do this anymore. It's over." Mark pulled out of her grasp. Maureen gasped. "You fucking prick! I was the one that told you to get into bass, remember? Without me..."

"...there probably wouldn't be any Treehuggers," Mark ended, "I know. But you're... you're a cheater nonetheless. I can't stand it."

Angel looked at Collins and leaned again him.

Maureen growled. "Fine. You... you know what? Fine! But you'd... you're nothing without me!"

Mark walked by Angel and Collins. "Fuck off."

Maureen pouted, storming off. Mimi waved. "Bye, bye!"

Mark smiled. Collins slapped him on the shoulder. Angel gave Mark a big hug. "C'mon, honey! Let's go inside!"

They got inside and Mark sighed. "I'm so glad that's over with."

"I hear ya," Angel said, "C'mon! Dance with me!"

Mark raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Dance with me! You, too, Collins. Of course, you."

Collins took a sip of his beer. "I don't dance."

Mark nodded. "Me either."

"What!" Angel yelled. "We're at a dance club! You gotta dance!"

"We don't dance," Mark and Collins said at the same time.

"Don't or can't?"

Mark and Collins looked at each other. "Can't."

Angel frowned. "Roger can't either! But look! There's Frankenstein, sucking it up!"

Collins shook his head. "Ang..."

"I'll teach you too! C'mon!"

She pulled them on the dancefloor. Some remix to a pop song was playing and Angel pushed Mark and Collins into moving to the music. She tried to help them out, giving them something to go by. She continuously kissed and touched Collins, reminding him that she was his. Collins was in shock at how sexual Angel became when music was on. He made a note of it for future reference.

After five songs, Angel said, "I knew you two could dance."

Mark and Collins stood there, barely able to move. "Wow."

Angel walked over to Mimi, who was standing again the wall.

"Lucky bastard having a girl like that," Mark said, jokingly.

"Yeah... I know..." Collins said, trying to escape the dancefloor.

"I hate you."

April noticed. "Did you see that!"

"Yep."

"He's..."

"She's amazing, our little drummer girl."

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"C'mon, dance with me," Angel begged, "We gotta show Mark and Collins how it's done."

"Hold on," Mimi said, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure."

"Let's go to the bathroom."

"Erm..."

"Oh, shut up. You're a girl as far as I can tell."

They walked to the girl's room and stood in the corner.

"Okay," Mimi said, "I got an idea."

"Uh huh?" Angel asked, her ears ringing.

"Okay. You really love Collins, don't you?"

"Yeah. Of course! I mean... he's the only guy I'll probably ever... trust..."

"With?"

Angel glued her legs together.

"I knew it! Well, Collins and I were talking and I kinda asked him about that."

"God! Mimi!"

"Come on! Anyway, he said that he really loves you, too, and uhm... he's not a virgin, for the record."

Angel blushed.

"Anyway, what I'm saying is that he's being really patient with you. And he's not gonna go to the next step unless you do."

"And that is?"

"You gotta get him to sleep over!"

Angel paled. "Are you serious?"

"Yep. I am. You gotta ask him... tonight."

"What do I do after that!"

"Take it from there. Remember when we shopped for lingerie?"

Angel blushed. "Oh God... uhm... yeah... Okay..."

"Now," Mimi said, hooking arms with her, "We dance."

"Indeed," Angel said as they left the bathroom.

After a few more hours of dancing, Angel, Mimi, and Collins went to Collins' van. As they sat, Angel said, "Hey, Collins... did you know we've been going out for two months?"

"Officially?" Collins asked.

"Yep," Angel said, smiling. She kissed him.

"Congrats, you two," Mimi added, beaming.

Angel smiled back. She kissed Collins once more and asked, "Do you wanna stay over tonight? Mimi's cool with it. Hell, she's excited."

Mimi grinned.

Collins nodded. "Sure." He kissed her and started the car. They made it to the apartment and as soon as Mimi got inside she stretched and yawned loudly. "Well, goodnight!" She went to her room.

Angel whispered, "Oh shit... you don't have clothes..." This was a disaster already.

Collins took off his shirt and began to remove his pants.

"And you're all sweaty! Gross!"

"Not really. But..."

"Whatever. I'm going to go get dressed. I'll be back." Angel walked to her room, nervous. She locked the door and went to her closet. She had tons of costume she and Mimi collected for no real reason. She found the infamous lingerie set. Nothing was more awkward than Mimi groping her and announcing, "We need an A cup!" She gulped, slipping off her dress. "Should I... whatever..." She could care less that she smelled like sweat and almost nonexistent perfume. She snapped the bra on, almost panicking as she couldn't get it on. She slipped the panties on and sighed, looking at the mirror. She quickly covered herself. She looked around and found her red silk robe. She slipped it on and walked to Collins.

Collins smirked. "Come here."

They kissed and felt like the luckiest people on earth.

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Once again, Mark was in his room, The Cure moaning. This time he was as well, out of desperation, frustration, and temporary pleasure. After deeming himself somewhat relieved he cleaned up and sighed. He could cut his hair, take away his glasses, change his clothes... but inside he could never change. He was Mark Cohen, a tragedy case who was now alone.

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After just standing there, entirely silent, Angel and Collins walked to Angel's room. Angel tried to be as quiet as a mouse while opening the door and closing it. Collins tried to be gentle as he felt her shake against him. "Angel... if you don't want me to..."

"...Oh... come on. I want you to. I'm just sucking at showing it."

She realized how clumsy she was without the music or a public to watch. Her hands couldn't fall on the right place and just slumped at his hips.

"Can we lay down?" Angel asked.

"Sure."

They laid down on the bed. Collins grabbed on the wide assortment of pillows. "So you've only had one date before me?"

"Yep."

"Can I ask you about it?"

"It was a really sweet, artsy kid in freshman year. He had long black hair and wore only purple. We went to some restaurant, but..."

"What happened?"

"His parents weren't took keen on us. We were forced apart, him being shipped off to Connecticut. I never got that, because, I mean, he wore i purple /I all the time. That's a dead giveaway. But don't worry about it. I love you now and... uhm..." She looked around. "I'm sorry... I must be the worse person ever..."

"Not at all! Everyone else is shit compared to you. Trust me." They kissed a little, moving around and getting caught in blankets. All of the nervous energy was being burned off.

"Uhm... Collins?"

"Yeah?"

"I was... I was wondering... uhm... could we... uhm... go... do... it?"

Collins was ready to burst with laughter at her approach to it. "Sure?"

"Can you teach me?"

"Sure."

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Roger looked around. "April... I don't know if we should keep doing this whole drug thing... I mean, we keep asking people for money and..."

"What? No!" April yelled, pulling apart a box they kept their needles in.

"I dunno... I mean..." Roger mumbled, "I really don't..." He stared at the needle and felt it calling him. "The band is sick of it."

April grunted. "The band has no right to tell you what to do. We all have addictions. Each of your bandmates do. It's one of three things. Sex, drugs, or rock n' roll. Angel's sex. He loves love and loves to be loved, you know? When I saw him dancing... I mean... seriously. He was pretty much having vertical sex with Mark and Collins. Then there's you. You're drugs. Drugs make you Roger Davis. They're as much a part of you as your pretty green eyes." She stroked his cheek. "It's not bad. It's just you. And then there's Mark. He's rock n' roll. Mark lives, breaths, and speaks his art. It's his passion. But he's the true problem. You see, rock kids don't find pleasure in drugs and sex and don't find any pleasure in general. Sex people can get people to love them and drug people can get drugs to love them. But rock kids... well... honey, you can listen to a CD over and over again... but it won't love you back. No matter how much it may seem. Now, get over here and help me!"

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I'm done.