A/N: Glad everyone enjoyed Chapter 6! A couple more chapters after this. Please review.

"What am I supposed to do?!" Maureen Johnson screeched into the telephone.

She could almost hear Angel cringe on the other line. "Honey, tone it down a bit, okay? Collins is taking a nap and if you start screaming, I'll start screaming."

Maureen sighed. "Fine," she muttered, "Sorry. Anyway, any suggestions? Or reasons as to why I'm such an idiot?"

"Maureen, you're not—"

"Don't try to turn this into a positive situation, Miss Oh-Happy-Day. You've got a hot boyfriend and you wear cute clothes. Yes, your life is good. Mine isn't right now."

There was silence on the other line for a moment. "I never knew you thought Collins was hot. Considering he's been one of your best friends, and that he's gay."

"Uh..." Maureen trailed off. "Whatever. That's not the point."

"Sweetheart, you have a wonderful girlfriend who provides lots of love, affection, and money."

Maureen laughed dryly. "You think I don't know that? I love Joanne. I am not supposed to be jealous of Stephanie, but I am. This is my problem! What is wrong with me?"

Angel sighed on the other line. "Mark's your ex. Of course you'd feel a little weird seeing him with someone else."

"Angel," Maureen said irritably, "Get this through that thick skull of yours. It's not weirdness. It's jealousy!"

Rolling her eyes, Angel replied, "If you're so jealous, tell Joanne about it."

"She already knows how I feel. But she understands. It's a different kind of jealousy, Angel. I'm not envious of the fact that I can't be with him. He just...treats me differently now. He treats everyone differently. I miss the old Mark Cohen."

"Yeah. Yeah, sweetie, I do, too."

Mark asked his roommate the same question for the umpteenth time: "Should I tell her?"

"I'm neutral, remember?" Roger replied, skimming through the pages of The Village Voice, "I'm not helping you anymore."

Burying his face in his hands, Mark muttered, "You're such a baby."

"Think about it, Mark. Who's the baby in this situation? Me, the guy who tried to help his best friend but feels that no matter what, his friend is gonna screw everything up by doing something stupid? Or, you, the one who has a fake girlfriend and is too afraid to tell his jealous ex-girlfriend and the rest of his friends about it?"

Mark knew that Roger was right. "Yeah...okay. You win. What I did the other day...was stupid." He sighed, and then continued, "I mean, Michelle is busy...with auditions and everything. And I took her out of her busy life and threw her into this mess. Then I snapped at Collins and he's probably pissed at me..."

"What do I keep telling you, Mark?" Roger stood up and grabbed his guitar. "You mess up? Fix it. Do something about it. And don't keep cryin' to me."

"Fine. But, Rog?"

"What?"

"Just don't tell Mimi yet."

Turning to face his friend solemnly, Roger said, "Already did." With that final statement, Roger walked out of the loft, closing the sliding door behind him.

It was then that Mark knew what he had to do.

"...So that's how I ended up in this mess. Stephanie never existed. And I'm sorry for lying. I didn't realize how much it would affect everyone, you know? I'm just...really sick of feeling like the weak one all the time."

Angel sat on the couch, wide-eyed, listening to Mark's little speech. Collins was, once again, smoking a joint, spread out on the couch as his head rested on Angel's lap. He had a slight know-it-all smirk on his face.

Mark gulped. "I can understand if you're pissed at me. I know Collins was. Now he's just amused because of how nervous I am right now. He thinks the look on my face is funny." He uttered every word with resentment as he glared at Collins.

Collins chuckled, looking up at Angel from his comfortable spot. "Hah. Damn straight."

"Wow," Angel said. "Mark, honey..."

"Yeah?" Mark asked, biting his lower lip.

Angel glanced down at Collins, fidgeting with a stray thread on his knit cap. "How can I put this?"

Mark was beginning to get nervous. "You can...y'know. Make fun of me. You have a right to."

"I'll try to put it nicely, honey. You are...very...brainless."

Collins burst out laughing. "Baby, that was so pricelessly on-target."

"Why, thank you, Tom. I thought of being a comedian when I was in the 'Weird-Job-Ambition' stage of my life."

It was the first time Mark had cracked a smile—a real one—in a long time.

Smirking, she spoke again, this time to Mark. "But don't worry, honey. Everyone makes mistakes. But I will say that lying was a really dumb idea. And if I were you, I'd talk to Maureen. I was just talking to her on the phone and she's beside herself."

Mark looked up. "Why?!" he asked apprehensively.

"She misses you, Mark. And so do the rest of us."

"But..." Mark muttered, "I see her all the time. And I see you guys all the time."

Angel nodded. "I know. But we miss the old you, Mark. The one who was honest. The one who lived on the theory of 'no day but today'. And finally, the one who would never even think of lying to his friends about something like a having a girlfriend, just because he was afraid of what people would think of him."

Mark realized how truly right Angel was. He stood up, heading toward the door. "Thank you, Angel. Thanks a lot."

"No problem, honey. You gonna talk to Maureen?"

Mark sighed shakily, wrapping his scarf around his neck. "I'll try..." Making an extreme effort in trying not to think about what he would say, Mark began to walk quickly and almost tripped over his own feet. He paused as small chuckles could be heard in the room.

"...Collins, dammit, stop laughing!"

Collins sat up. "Hey, man, don't look at me. It was Angel this time."