Chapter Eleven: Faltered Façade
Maureen pouted as she obediently followed her four bohemian friends onto the wet streets of New York City. She puffed her chest out and childishly folded her arms annoyingly. "I thought we were going to get some ice cream!" she finally exclaimed, unable to keep her enthusiasm down after walking just a few blocks away from the loft. "Nobody said anything about picking up Blink and going to the Life…"
"You like the dog." Benny rolled his eyes, shaking his head and causing raindrops to fly. "You boughtthe dog. What's wrong with it?"
Maureen looked to the wet, fluffy brown mess in Collins' arms and immediately gushed over the large brown eyes looking at her expectantly. She patted Blink's head and replied, "Nothing's wrong with the dog." She pouted again as Benny glared. "Jeez, what's your problem? I was just asking. We always go to the Life Café. I was excited about doing something different."
"You were just-"
"Calm down Benny." Mimi placed a delicate hand on Benny's shoulder before looking to Maureen and saying, "We can go get ice cream later, if you want. It's nearly dinnertime and we should really eat a meal first, besides," Mimi chuckled as she shivered in the April rain, "it's pretty cold right now."
Grinning, Maureen smiled to Mimi and thanked her before turning to Benny. "See? Was that so hard to do?"
Mimi turned quickly to stifle the laugh climbing up her throat, Benny bit his tongue from saying anything to the diva, Joanne slapped her girlfriend unhappily, and Collins continued to walk. Nothing was processing in the professor's mind; everything just seemed to be in a haze ever since Mark's confession to him. Hell, it was a good question though. Did they really rely on Mark so much that Mark didn't think about taking care of himself? Sure he helped Roger with his HIV, helped Mimi whenever she need solace, helped Joanne and Maureen respectfully after all of their fights, and helped Collins through Angel's death…
Crash
Lightning and thunder tore though the sky. It all seemed so surreal.
A simple lick from Blink, who climbed his shoulders restlessly, brought Collins from his thoughts. He heaved a long sigh and shook himself back to the present just in time to listen in on another one of Maureen and Joanne's arguments. Careening his neck sideway, Collins breathed another sigh at the sight before him. He hadn't noticed they'd stopped walking.
The streets were practically empty, aside from the various homeless people camping out on the stoops trying to escape the pounding rain, and for that small detail Collins was thankful for some kind of relief in the situation. Maureen and Joanne stood in the middle of the sidewalk, faces inches apart as they yelled about Maureen being an "ungrateful, unforgivable, arguing idiot" and Joanne being an "annoying dolt".
"It's not my fault he's such a bastard!" Maureen yelled, pointing to Benny but not taking her eyes off Joanne.
Joanne shot back, "He didn't even do anything!"
"He looked at me funny!"
"Guys, don't fight," Mimi tried uselessly, innocently keeping her distance.
"It's really okay, Joanne," Benny said. "There's nothing wrong."
"Like hell!" Maureen shouted, finally tearing away from Joanne and turning to glare at him. "You're the one that started this whole argument!"
Mimi's eyes flared. "There wouldn't be an argument if we could just get along!"
"Are you saying it's our fault?" Joanne demanded. "We're not the only ones yelling!"
"Don't yell at her," Benny growled, pushing Mimi back from their argument. "She didn't do anything."
"I can take care of myself!" Mimi said.
Memories came back. Damned memories from Halloween.
When they said goodbye…
It's not goodbye though, not anymore. Maureen and Joanne reconciled their differences and a month later Roger came back to the city to apologize to Mimi. Everything was fine. Everything was fine. They'd had their guardian angel helping them along the way, yet in the process they'd forgotten their other guardian. The one, who, long ago, helped Maureen with her protests, pushed Roger through his withdrawal, helped Collins become happy with MIT, calmed Benny from the loneliness of New York City…
How had he become just a blur in the background?
And, with that thought, Collins began wondering if the same thing would've happened to Angel. Mark had been with them and over the years they had started taking his presence for granted, they all just got used to the fact that Mark cared about them more than he did himself. Would that have happened to Angel if she didn't die? Would Collins let that happen?
Some things just made sense now.
Give Mark relief.
Help Mark like he tries to help you.
Do something to keep this family together.
Blink yipped happily and that was all the confirmation Collins needed as he patted the dog's head happily. The dog was just a subtle reminder that other people could help the bohemian family. Even Blink understood something that was in front of their eyes the whole entire time. Blink truly was the "perfect gift".
Zoning back in on the fighting, Collins found himself shaking his head pathetically. He squared his shoulders and walked slowly and confidently towards the four feuding bohemians.
"She wouldn't be yelling if you didn't go hectic after every suggestion we make!" Mimi was shouting to Maureen, talking of Joanne.
"That's not my fault!" Maureen spat. "You can't expect me to stay quiet for suggestions! That's why they're called suggestions. I'm just trying to help out too!" She stomped her foot affectionately onto the ground and only caused muddy water to splash onto Benny.
"Well, you're not!" Benny spoke up, wiping water from his coat. "Jeezus, woman, you give such a headache."
"Thanks, sellout!"
Ruff! Blink barked angrily, Ruff! Ruff!
CRASH!
The thunder grew louder.
Eyes turned, finally aware of the anarchist's presence.
"What the hell are we doing?" Collins questioned, pushing Joanne and Maureen away from each other. He shoved Blink carefully into Mimi's arms and quickly folded his over his chest. "Well? Anybody got an answer?" Everybody looked away, embarrassed. "I sure as hell didn't think so."
"Collins-"
"Don't you Collins me," Collins said sternly, cutting off Maureen. "You call yourselves friends? Well I have news for you! Friends do not find an argument over petty subjects every few seconds. Friends don't throw their shit into other people's laps. Friends understand each other and try to help each other. Friends are our family. Is this what family means to you?
"After everything we went through in December, I figured we'd all learned something. Learned about love? Learned about keeping your friends close to your heart? What happened to friendship is thicker then blood? We all agreed on that notion. Don't tell me that you've forgotten already. Or do we just mean that little?
"Don't let this family die, because it sure as hell seems like you're willing to."
The silence after Collins' words hurt.
Would they really let this family die?
"I'm sorry, Maureen," Benny sighed finally, hand scratching the back of his neck uselessly. "I didn't mean what I said."
Collins breathed a sigh. Benny was not one for easy apologies.
"I'm sorry too. You're not a sellout…anymore," Maureen smiled before inching her way back toward Joanne to trap her in a comforting hug. "Pookie and I may have our arguments but we don't stay mad at each other forever."
"Sorry, honey bear," Joanne smiled, returning the hug.
However, Mimi seemed to be the only one to understand the full length of what Collins had said. "But what if we did?" she questioned, plunking down on one of the lone black benches on the sidewalk, looking out into the empty street blankly.
"What if we did, what?" Maureen questioned, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean, Meems?"
Joanne's brain clicked instantly. "What if we let this family die?"
"That's not happening." Benny replied quietly, his voice soft as he sat next to Mimi on the bench. He ruffled Blink's fur confidently and said, "We won't let it happen."
"You don't know that." Mimi said. "Collins is right. We nearly broke apart four months ago and now we're doing the same thing, except this time it's taking down Mark first. Last time it was me and Roger-"
"Wait." Maureen stuttered. "I-I don't get it, Meems. We didn't do anything to Marky."
Mimi patted Blink's head inertly. "We didn't do anything to Mark, and that's what hurt him most of all."
Maureen opened her mouth to protest but Collins beat her to the punch. "Don't you see, Maureen? Mark's the one sparing his feeling for us…"
"He doesn't open up." Maureen defended herself, "He knows we're here for him."
"Does he?" Benny tried. "Mark's not one to ask for help. He helps the people around him, and if he feels as if he's doing something wrong, even if it's something he couldn't change, he'll call himself a failure. Mark doesn't allow himself to fail his friends."
Maureen faltered.
Good, Collins thought to himself. They understand.
"Mark forgets about himself," Collins said, making sure that it would stick in everybody's head. After seven years even Roger understood it now, and, for now, Collins was going to make sure the rest of their family would. "He's caught in dealing with our problems that when he thinks about himself, even if it's just for a second, he'll think he's being selfish. But that's the problem. We don't realize that he's being selfless because we're too busy brining all of our problems to him. He pushes his emotions aside for us."
Maureen whispered, clinging tighter to Joanne. "How could we miss something that's been in front of us the whole time?"
A small silence before-
"Because you're dense- Shit, Maureen!" Benny recoiled from the slap on his shoulder and turned to glare. "What the hell?"
The glare met shimmering brown eyes as Maureen tossed her head back and laughed into the New York City wind. Soon Benny was smiling and stifling down his own bout of laughter. Mimi took her turn to giggle as Joanne joined in happily and Blink barked animatedly.
Collins watched from the sidelines, a satisfied smile forming on his face, and even through the dark clouds forming overhead, Collins believed his thoughts. He believed there was a way to stay together.
There was no way he'd let his family die.
Maureen turned on her heels. "I'll talk to my Marky. It's the least I can-"
"No," Benny took her shoulder. "Roger is with him right now. Let them talk."
"But I-"
"Maureen," Mimi whispered, "they need to work things out first."
Opening her mouth to argue, Maureen shook her head and decided against starting up another argument with her friends. She turned back towards where they were originally going and smiled. "Ready to head to the Life?" Maureen questioned. "I really am hungry for a cheeseburger."
"My treat." Benny smirked.
"As if I'd reject that offer." Maureen giggled, linking her arm with Benny and dragging him down the street at a fast run. "Come on! The faster we eat, the faster Benny treats us to ice cream!" The diva chewed her lips thoughtfully and added, "We won't fail Mark this time."
Joanne smiled as she ran after them.
"You okay?" Collins questioned Mimi, smiling as he listened to the laughter in the distance.
"I'm magnificent now." Mimi let out a tight sigh as she hauled herself off the bench and pecked Collins on the cheek. "Ready to go?"
Collins patted Blink's head, the dog panting excitedly from the cold. "You go on. I know Mark and Roger need their time alone to talk about a few things, but-"
"Three's a charm." Mimi replied, smiling. "You want to take Blink?"
Collins smirked. "Nah. He'll watch over the three of you."
"Thanks." Mimi rolled her eyes before starting off towards the Life Café. She stopped suddenly-
"Something wrong?" Collins questioned.
"You know," Mimi whispered, "in more then one way you're the glue too."
"Hey, I'm not one to hog the glory." Collins chuckled. "We all hold this family together somehow. Some more than others."
Mimi only smiled as she bobbed her head in agreement. Sometimes it was hard to forget that she was only twenty years old. She turned to head back towards the Life Café but stopped in her tracks to see Benny, Maureen, and Joanne a few long strides away, waiting.
"COME ON MIMI!" Maureen yelled energetically.
"Coming!" Mimi giggled happily as she tightened her grip on Blink before racing off down the sidewalk, splashing rain water as she ran to catch up with her three friends.
Ruff! Ruff! Blink's barks echoed through the stormy city.
A little light in all the dark.
Collins waited on the sidewalk a few minutes, waiting until the four bohemians were out of sight before turning on his heel and heading back up to the loft. Hopefully Mark and Roger wouldn't mind the company. Walking the few blocks toward the street, Collins skipped casually up the stairs toward the desired loft. He was happy to find the sliding door unlocked and quickly cracked the door open slightly, so as not to startle his friends if they were caught up in a conversation. They were watching Mark's footage though, that much Collins knew. Collins knew it wasn't his place, but he couldn't help it, he slid the door open slightly and peeked through…
He watched the scene unfold before him, slowly at first as if every movement Roger and Mark made would cost them their lives. The filmmaker sat on the couch in the living room, eyes staring blankly ahead of him -Collins guess he was looking at the projector screen- and Roger sat next to him, their shoulders touching; his whole body tense. Behind them the lightning continued animatedly, rain splashing harder and faster on to the window behind them. However, the duo didn't seem to notice, for whatever was on the projector was scaring the shit out of both of them.
Could it have been that bad? Collins asked himself.
Mark was the first to speak- mumble more like. His hand flew to his mouth; "Oh, shit…" before he flung himself off the couch as if he had just jumped off of a diving board. The filmmaker moved with less grace then Collins could imagine a visually impaired person could do, maneuvering expertly around the coffee table, careful not to trip over the carpet, and pushing himself into the middle door.
"Mark!" Collins watched as Roger flew after his best friend, hair flying behind him as he disappeared into the bathroom.
Maybe things could be that bad…
Slipping into the loft quietly, Collins slid the loft door shut before locking it quickly. He went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water and two tablets of the headache medicine Doctor Crow had supplied.
Fabulous, Collins sighed loudly as he wandered into the bathroom and took in the site before him. Mark on his knees hunched over the toilet throwing his stomach contents -which was probably mostly bile and some of Mimi's chicken noodle soup- as Roger knelt down next to him, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words into the filmmaker's ear. The musician looked up at the sound of Collins' sigh and gave a wane smile at his presence before turning his attention back to Mark.
Glad to see he's at least doing better. Collins thought, smirking as Roger brought a hand to smooth Mark's hair away from his forehead. He knelt down on the other side of Mark and leaned exhaustedly against the bathtub, waiting for the tremors to pass.
Mark muttered to himself, heaving one last time before breaking into a coughing fit that sent him doubling over so far down that Roger had to grab him before he could hit his head on the porcelain seat.
"It's okay." Roger whispered as he rubbed more small circles on the filmmaker's back. "You're doing fine. Do you hear me?"
Collins watched through squinted eyes as the filmmaker settled down and wiped his face fiercely. Sniffling, Mark laughed hollowly. "What's your definition of fine?" Mark tilted his head in Collin's direction and frowned, "Collins?"
"Yeah, boy." Collins replied, ruffling Mark's hair. "I figured you two would need some company."
"Oh, yeah." Mark muttered, as he fell into a sitting position with his legs curled up to his chest. He held his stomach slightly and gently rocked back and forth. "Terrific timing if you have to settle to watch me throw away my lunch."
"Mm-hmm." Collins nodded absently, signaling Roger to flush the toilet as he stuffed the glass and tablets into Mark's hands. "Here," he said. "Those should help your stomach."
"Come on, we can clean this later." Roger muttered, helping Mark to his feet. "Are you okay now?"
"I'm not going to throw up, if that's what you mean." Mark replied blankly, blindly climbing to his feet.
"That'll do it." Collins frowned, taking Mark's other arm and helping lead him into the living room before plopping his silently on the couch. "Hang out here." Collins said to Mark before quickly grabbing Roger's arm and pulling him into the kitchen.
Roger ran a hand through his hair, pacing. "Thomas…"
"What the hell happened?"
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October 5th, 10:00 AM, Eastern Standard Time.
Twenty days before April's death.
The filmmaker pushed his way through the throng of people crowded around the small stage, his camera held firmly to his eye as he trailed on the pretty boy front man, Roger Davis. Grinning as the man caught his eye and winked, Mark waved to his best friend. The bar reeked of vomit and sweat however, and soon Mark was regretting taking the offer to stay late to film the Well Hungarian's performance.
"Watch it!" One drunkard yelled, shoving Mark to the side causing the smaller blond to fall. "Move out of the way!"
Seeing stars, Mark groped the floor annoyingly as he searched for his glasses, knocked off from the fall. They'd been right in front of him just a few moments ago…
"Hands off, bub!"
Nope, that was a foot.
"Whoa!" Crap. This one was a foot. Hairy, yet a bit friendlier. "Hey, cutie. The party is up here."
Mark gulped down the breath he hadn't realize he was holding and staggered away quickly from the drunk drag queen. Not that it was much of a thrill to be caught up in the rest of the drunk, violent crowd. Fastening his camera strap securely around his shoulder, Mark pushed himself to his feet and swayed against the sight in front of his eyes. He sure as hell needed his glasses, especially now. He blinked his eyes rapidly against the swaying shapes and multi-colors, trying to grasp the situation as his temple began to pound-
"Here!" A hand came out quickly to grab his wrist. "Hurry up!" Not wanting to argue, Mark frowned and allowed himself to be drug from the crowd. He squinted into the darkness. "Sorry 'bout that," the voice chuckled, "but you looked like you were having a bit of trouble in there."
"Yeah." Mark swallowed. "Sure can be brutal, can't they?"
"Stupid drunks."
"Yeah," Mark chuckled. He rubbed his temple and questioned, "Who are you?"
"Oh!" The suddenly clear feminine voice squeaked. "I'm so sorry. My name is Tammy." She delicately placed Mark's black-rimmed frames on his face and her radiant smile became clear. "Tammy Carson."
"Mark Cohen." They shook hands cordially and exchanged shy smiles. "Carson, huh? Any relation to an April?"
"Hmmm…" Tammy drummed her fingers against her chin, deep in faux thought. "Fiery red hair and temper?"
Mark laughed. "That'd be the one."
"Yeah." She pointed to the stage, directly at Roger. "That's her boyfriend, right there. His name is-"
"Roger Davis." Mark finished. "I'm his roommate. Funny, Roger and April have been dating three months and she never mentioned having a sister."
"Yeah." Tammy laughed. "Well, I would be the odd one in her eyes. Who would've thought? Her baby sister finishing high school. Not that it mattered; I dropped out of college a few weeks ago. Brown University, actually."
"Really?" Mark's eyes widened excitedly. "I dropped out of Brown too! Didn't even last a whole week before I came here to be a filmmaker about three years ago. What about you?"
"Photographer." Tammy explained. "April and I met up again last night and now I'm going to be living with her."
Mark's stomach fluttered happily. "Cool. So what-"
"MARK!" Roger's voice boomed through the club and soon the bleached-blond hair musician was pushing himself through the crowd, his fender held tightly in his hand. "What the hell happened out there? I saw you fall down but you never got up. I was going to see if you were all right but Frank gave me this look…Asshole, you know how he is…" He stopped suddenly, clasping Mark on the back. "Well, who's your friend?"
"Tammy Carson." Tammy gave a small wave, flipping her brown hair back. "I'm April's sister."
Roger smirked. "April told me this morning. It's nice to meet you." He winked to Mark and shoved his side. "I see you two already met."
Mark rolled his eyes but smiled as he saw that Tammy had the decency to blush with him. He replied, "She saved me from the crowd."
"TAMMY!" A fiery red blur brushed past Mark and Roger as April flung herself at her sister. "I thought I told you to wait for me at the apartment." Smacking her red lips happily, April turned to the two boys and said, "Guess introductions are done?"
"Yeah." Roger nodded, snaking his hand around April's waist and bringing her close to him. "So, what about dinner? Call it a double date?"
April's eyes widened. "Double date?" She looked between Mark and Tammy happily. "Really, now?"
This time they both blushed.
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Licking his suddenly chapped lips, Mark knelt forward slowly and carefully placed his head in his hands as he angrily rubbed his temple against the oncoming headache. Whatever pills Collins had given him sure were taking a long time to work. Mark sighed as he dug his fingers deeper into his hair, surprised if there wasn't a bruise already forming, as he tried to zone his ears out of the two men's quiet conversation in the kitchen. Damn… it was hard enough to hear the cold hard truth on film, Mark just didn't want to hear Roger confirm it and repeat it to Collins.
April's sister, Tammy Carson? How the hell had that happened?
"You remember how it went, Thomas." Roger hissed quietly, unaware that Mark could hear his every word. "She just disappeared! You and Mark looked for her and said that she probably just went back home or back to… I don't know… We didn't know where she was-"
"Calm down," Collins said. "There's no need to get upset. Did you watch the rest of the footage?"
"We were about to." Roger replied. "Damn, man. How could we not see this coming?"
Mark heard Collins sigh. "Out of all the things in the world, Roger, would you really think this was what happened to Mark? Hell, you haven't seen Tammy and this asshole in four years. You only met Tammy once! That doesn't make this a situation to place guilt on yourself or Mark-"
"Why the hell would I blame Mark?" Roger hissed. "He sure as hell couldn't have known."
At least he's defending me. That's something.
"It's not Mark's fault." Collins said, still calm. "We need to see the rest of this footage."
Mark's brain clicked. Oh, shit…
"That would work," Mark spoke up, surprised at how cracked his voice was, "but you should know that the rest of the footage is gone."
"Dammit." Collins was trying the projector. "He's right. There's nothing on here."
Roger's shadowed-form was at his side in an instant. "You remember?"
"Oh, sure." Mark ran a weary hand across his face. "Hell of a time to get my memory back. One month and she's still there. We have to do something-" he began to get up but strong hands held his shoulders down firmly, plopping him back onto the couch. He squint through the darkness and frowned, "Collins-"
"Somebody has to think rationally here." Collins said sternly. "Judging by what Roger said, what you have on camera is good evidence. We need to get Tammy, sure, but how the hell do suppose we do that?"
Mark sunk into the cushion, defeated.
"We can't just sit here!" Roger yelled, not giving in. "You heard Mark! She's down there with a druggie. It's been four years!"
Collins fumed, "Don't stand there and tell me you want to barge in on a druggie. He's dangerous."
"That's not-" Roger started, but Mark cut in.
"Hell, he's got a gun."
Mark was silently aware as two pairs of eyes turned towards him swiftly, and immediately he regretted sharing the detail. He just didn't want Roger walking into something so dangerous.
Roger said, "What? What gun?"
Mark shuddered. The memory came back full force.
"Mark?" Roger placed his hands on his shoulder. "Mark, what gun are you talking about?"
"Shit," Collins whispered, "boy, we need the whole story."
"Mark…" Roger's voice, barely a whisper. A finger brought his chin up, visually impaired blue eyes meeting piercing green orbs. "Remember what we talking about? I'm not going anywhere. I'm not letting your emotions drown you. Tell me what gun, Mark."
"The gun he stuck down my throat…"