December 24, 1989

Well, I would never come here by myself. Not because I don't care about protests or "save our homes," but because amateur art bothers me most of the time. So though I don't mind Collins' assurances that "she's really great, Angel, you'll see," I have my doubts. After all, the flyers are not particularly impressive, and Mimi's here, just being dragged along by her new flavor-of-the-week, Roger. Then there's Mark, who won't keep his eyes off the stage, even though it's empty right now, and keeps mumbling something about a tango. I don't know what that's about.

"Maureen is Mark's ex," Roger hisses to me. I grin knowingly. That explains it. Of course. She dumped him, probably after having been with Roger at some point. And that girl up there, the one handling the cables and lighting, is probably Maureen's new one, because Mark shoots her jealous looks. Poor kid.

Then Maureen comes out, with blaring motorcycle lights blinding me. I blink through them, follow her with my eyes as she skids over to the stage. Well. She's one of those girls. Roger grins at her, Mark sulks, and Mimi makes soft comments about her good choice in footwear. I just watch, entirely open-minded as one of the few people in the room devoid of attraction to her, along with Collins.

After, I am applauding and cheering with everyone else, beating police officers away and making sure none of my friends, new or not, gets harmed by this stupid riot. As this happens, Maureen watches from the stage, trying to mask her fear by feigning amusement and desperation. She isn't desperate to stop the riot, she's scared that it might hurt her career. Scared that her friends might get hurt. I see human emotion in her eyes, and I am thankful, because if I didn't, I might think that she was robotic. I watch her for a moment before getting distracted again as a cop tries to snag Mark's camera. I kick him you-know-where and shiver, hoping my skirt is long enough for him to not know that he could do the same to me.

Maureen is amused, yes, but she's also worried. I offer up my hand to help her down, and she accepts. "Hi," I say as her feet hit the ground and she leans back on me to steady herself. "I'm Angel."

She smiles. "I know who you are. You're Collins' girlfriend."

I beam. Wow. She may be the first one to call me someone's "girlfriend" immediately after meeting me, and knowing as she does that her friend Collins is gay. Very good. "In the flesh," I reply, but break away from her momentarily to kick away a certain policeman who attempts to get his hands on Collins. I kick him, I push him, and I turn swiftly back to Maureen. "Hi," I say brightly.

With a laugh, she takes my hand. "C'mon," she says, and looks around to all her other friends as well. "Let's go over to the Life."

Collins grumbles. "We go there almost every night," he protests.

"Good," says Maureen, and releases my hand for just long enough to lay a hand on Collins' shoulder. "Listen to the princess," she instructs playfully.

He snorts. "If anyone were a princess, it'd be Angel here," he drawls. I beam. "Oh," he says to Maureen, "have you met Angel? She, ah, she met me on the street after I got mugged. Saved me."

I blush. "It was nothing," I tell them, and daintily step over an unconscious body on the ground. Maureen and I both double-take, however, and review the face, making sure it is not familiar. "Should we…"

"No," Maureen says decisively. "It's a fucking yuppie. I can tell. See the hat?" she asks, gesturing to the hat beside the man. "Don't. He was just here to be an asshole."

It's been awhile since I've been around someone who swears quite as much as Maureen does, and it is new for me, but I'm far from sheltered, and I can swear with the best of them if I need to or feel the urge to do so.

"Bet he was," Collins grunts, and I feel no need to elaborate. Rather, I turn to the girl tagging along with us.

"Hi," I say, but she appears to not notice me. Joanne, I remember. Her name is Joanne.

Collins looks at me. "You want to run ahead?" he asks. I shrug, and we are off, leaving Maureen to make out with her girlfriend and Collins to sweep me into his arms.

God, he is so sweet.

"Are you planning on carrying me for three avenues?" I tease.

He laughs. "Yes," he replies cheekily, and strokes my hair. "You're so cute, Angel."

"Nothing compared to you," I say, and lean up to kiss his lips.

Sure enough, I remain in his arms for the three avenues before we arrive at the Life, and he sets me down on my feet. "So," he says, "what did you think of Maureen?"

I shrug. "She's fine."

"Fine?"

"She's definitely something," I say.

Collins laughs. He echoes, "Definitely something."