Author's Note: Alright, here is the next chapter of LOST. Couple of things I want to say, first. One: Due to NaNoWriMo, this story will be updated weekly during the month of November. However, that is only if the ten review mark is met – otherwise, it will be every other week until I complete my novel. The reason for that is this is starting to get into a bit of the more upsetting topics (even if it is just foreshadowing and all that good stuff). That, and it usually takes a lot of time and energy to get a chapter of this out – and my novel is hard enough as it is. Two: This chapter is on the shorter side but that is because I needed to cut it off here so that next week (or so) would start with The Tango Maureen scene. Three: I made a boo boo with the date. Twisters' show is Monday, not Tuesday. I'm going to go back and fix it but, for now, know that this chapter is right. And Four: This chapter is not where I meant to go but I think it suited itself. I want to remind you guys that this will eventually be very drama-heavy. The end of this chapter is just the first taste of that. I hope you all enjoy! PS. If you want to check out my NaNoWriMo novel, my user name is: cursetheflame. Woot.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor stake any claim, to any of the original characters shamelessly borrowed from Newsies – they are the property of Disney, © 1992. Any other character, when noted, is property of their respective owner and will be noted in the disclaimer. Charlotte Blackett is the propert of Holiday and is used with permission. The core idea to this story – the adaptation of the Broadway musical, RENT, is © 1996 to Jonathan Larson.

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How can you connect in an age where strangers, landlords, lovers, your own blood cells betray?
Because one can never be sure if such a moment could be the last...

November 8, 2006

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I'm a New Yorker…
Fear's my life…

--

"Well, boys, it was really great meeting you. But, Blink, honey, we have to get going," Mush reminded him, using one of her hooker red painted fingernails to run up and down Blink's exposed arm.

Blink nodded. "I know. You ready?"

Mush pulled her arm back and her hands disappeared inside the oversized sleeves of her Santa jacket. "Yeah. You guys want to come?" she offered, looking at Jack and David.

Jack did not even need to know where they were going. "No thanks. I'm not that great of company, you know."

Mush wiggled her eyebrows. "Going to go visit that pretty little thing downstairs, hmm?" she asked suggestively.

Jack flinched. "No. I have other things to do," he said flatly.

Faced with that reaction, Mush decided it would be best to drop it. Or, at the very least, wait until he and Blink were outside to ask what crawled up Jack's butt and died.

David looked interested. "Where are you guys going?"

"Life support meeting. We get together every now and then and just try to survive life. Most of us there have AIDS but you don't have to have it to go. I think everyone needs support to live life in New York." David noticed that Mush had the habit of waving her hands energetically as she explained.

Blink nodded his agreement. "You should come, Dave. Maybe it'll help you get over Twister."

David went red. He knows already… "Jack told you, huh?" He turned around to glare at Jack. Jack, however, seemed to think that the bottom of his coffee mug was incredibly interesting.

He shook his head; he would have to get Jack back for blabbing to everyone about him and Annie. That and the stupid forehead thing.

"You didn't think that anyone could keep that secret, did you, Dave?" Blink asked knowingly.

Mush, however, looked confused. She elbowed Blink in the side. "What?"

Blink jerked his thumb towards David. "David's girlfriend, Twister, dumped him two months ago." He paused and David knew he was just building up suspense for the punch line. He was not disappointed. "For a chick."

Mush looked from Blink to David and backed. It was easy to tell that she wanted to laugh but did not want to hurt David's feelings; her brown eyes were wide and she was biting her bottom lip. After a few seconds… "Oh. That's… uh, that's nice."

David gave Mush a look that said 'you're not fooling no one'. Mush realized that she had been caught. So she did the only thing she could: she laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" David said. "Laugh it up. Just get it out of your system. Any day now. Come on. It's not like I'm not the only guy here who got dumped, you know. I just happened to get dumped for another girl…"

He was still going on, muttering under his breath. His mutterings just continued as Blink and Jack joined in on the laughter. David just blushed even darker.

The laughter probably went on longer than it should have – and would have, undoubtedly, continued on for even longer – if Mush did not take pity on David and stop. "Alright, boys. That's enough. Let's leave David alone… hmm?"

"Yeah," Blink agreed, though still snickering, "you're right, Mush. Besides, we got to get going." He waved at Jack and David with his hand while reaching out for Mush's with his right. "You guys have any plans for this week?"

Jack just rolled his eyes; his earlier comment of 'I'm not that great of company' ran through everyone else's head. Blink snorted and turned to David. "Let me rephrase that. Dave, you have any plans for this week?"

Finally, David was allowed a bit of a moment to chuckle – which he did. "Actually, I do. Annie… Twister," he added. Mush was looking confused and he figured it might be smarter to tell Mush that Annie and Twister was the same person before she asked, "She is doing a performance on Monday down at one of the lots that Spot is trying to shut down. She thinks if she riles up enough people, he might change him mind."

"Fat chance."

David nodded, agreeing with Jack. "Anyway, the performance starts at nine, if you two want to come. I think we're going to head out to dinner after the show ends."

"What do you think?" Blink asked, squeezing Mush's hand.

Mush shrugged. "Sounds like fun. It might be nice to meet this Twister person. Nine o'clock on Monday? Alright."

"Cool."

"Cool," mimicked Jack. David spun around to glare at him; Jack's face was back in his coffee mug.

Blink shook his head. "And, on that note, we will be taking our leave." He did a mock salute. "See you later, boys."

Mush waved impishly at them. However, just as Blink began to lead her out of the apartment, she dragged on her heels and turned around. "Just remember that you guys are more than welcome at the Life Support meeting. It starts at noon down at the Ryder Community Center. Try to make it if you can."

Jack just turned his head and stared out of the non-broken window. David ignored his rude behavior and smiled thankfully at Mush. "Thanks. I'd like to attend. I'll meet you down there. I just have to wash up."

Mush nodded, still standing half in the apartment, half in the hall. "Thank you, David."

"Adios, you bums," called Blink's voice, laced with laughter. Then there was a tug on Mush's sleeve and she, too, was gone.

David waited a moment to see if they were actually gone (he could hear Mush's giggles as they descended the stairs) before turning to face Jack. This time, though he was still in the kitchen, nursing his (probably fourth or fifth, at this rate) cup of coffee, he did not hide himself away from David's questioning gaze. He must have known that this was coming. "Ja-ack…"

Jack grimaced. He hated it when Dave used that sing-song voice. "Wha-at…"

"Care to explain this to me?" David lifted his hand up so that Jack could see that folded note held between his pointer finger and his middle finger. He had removed the paper from his pocket as soon as Mush and Blink had left; he wanted to talk to Jack about it before he joined them down at the community center.

Jack placed his empty mug back onto the counter and shrugged. "What's there to explain?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's just that you haven't left this apartment in weeks and then, out of nowhere, some girl is inviting you over for Christmas. It's weird, you know?" David said as he joined him in the kitchen.

He offered Jack the note. Jack snatched it and, after crumpling it up into as small a ball as he could manage, he tossed it into the garbage. "It's nothing, Dave. Some kid from the building stopped by after you left last night, asking if I'd light her candle. We talked for a bit and then she left. That was all."

David raised his eyebrow. "Didn't seem to me like that was all. And who is she? Do I know her?"

"I don't know. She lives below us. Brown hair, wavy, I guess. Real tiny girl. Says she's nineteen but I don't buy it. I'm sure you've seen her around."

"Wait. Are you talking about the girl from the Kit Kat Club?"

It was Jack's turn to raise an eyebrow. "And how the hell do you remember that, Dave?"

David shrugged, a mischievous smile spanning across his face. "I actually get out of the house."

--

There were three other people milling about, greeting each other and sharing Christmas wishes, in Room 3 of the Ryder Community Center when Blink and Mush arrived. They got there with close to five minutes to spare; they were followed almost immediately by an elderly man with white hair and glasses.

That man cleared his throat as he entered, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "Merry Christmas, everyone. Would you like to take your seats?"

There was a stack of folded chairs placed against the wall. Each of the people grabbed a chair (Blink took one for Mush, someone else grabbed a second chair for the older man) and, by the time the clock struck twelve, they had formed a small circle with each of the six people looking at each other.

"Welcome to another Life Support meeting, everyone. I see we have a new face today so let's start by introducing ourselves, alright?" There was a general murmuring among the others. The older man smiled. "Great. My name is Alfred Kloppman. I, myself, don't have AIDS but my granddaughter did. She passed away three years ago and, ever since then, I started coming to these meetings in her place. I tried to help her. I want to help you, now."

When he finished, the group clapped. It was a gentle sound and lasted for only a few seconds. They appreciated the man's dedication to their cause; he had held daily meetings, ranging in time, ever since Betsy had died. Whether one person or ten showed up to his meetings, he continued to hold them. Most of them considered him to be a grandfather to them, too.

To Kloppman's right sat a young man, shorter than most of the people present. He had dark hair, dark eyes and a gambler's smile – one of those smiles that people can not read. He nodded and, when he spoke, his accent was so stereotypically New York it made the others want to shake their head. "Hey. I'm Tony. Tony Higgins. And, yeah, I'm HIV positive. Sucks, don't it?"

There was a girl sitting next to Tony. She would have been very pretty with her brown skin, long chestnut hair and green eyes if not for the waif-like features of the girl. She was very tiny, almost swallowed up by her dark grey coat. She kept her head bowed and, when she spoke, she was quiet. "Charlotte Blackett. I've been sick for about eight months now."

Directly opposite of the circle, sat a boy, a little over twenty, who was tall and thin. He was almost lying in his chair, his back against the seat, his butt hanging off the edge. He had his hands crossed over his chest in a very guarded manner. "Skittery," was all he offered.

Mush did not seem to expect anything else from the boy, nor did any of the other people. She smiled at all of them. "I'm Mush," she said but, upon a look from the man, Kloppman, she removed her wig. Her short hair was mussed and she took an instant to pat it down. "Connor, really," she added. It was quite odd to see her dressed in her get-up, wearing her make-up but no wig. "I've been coping with AIDS for about two years now."

And, lastly, it was Blink's turn. He followed Mush's example and smiled at them all. Charlotte and Tony, he noticed, as well as Kloppman, smiled back. Skittery just smirked. "Hey. I'm Hayden but, for obvious reasons, you can call me Blink. I've been HIV positive for about three years. And, well, that's it, I guess."

"Welcome to Life Support, Blink," Kloppman said before clapping his hands once. He drew everyone's attention over to him. "Alright, everyone. Anyone want to start?"

Charlotte dropped her head and Skittery scoffed; Tony shook his head. Blink had no idea what 'start' meant, so he did not say anything. Mush, on the other hand, began to open her mouth but, before she could say anything, there was a loud racket coming from the other end of the room. Someone was trying to open the door.

Finally, after a ten second struggle with the door (it was one of the awkward shaped knobs), the door popped open. David stood there, his camera in his hand, his face red. "Uh… sorry?"

Nobody said anything. The silence caused David to get even more flustered. For a second he thought he had gotten the wrong room but then he saw Blink and Mush (Was that Mush? Where did the hair go?) and hurried over to them.

Kloppman looked kindly over to David. "Welcome to Life Support. And you are?"

"Me?" David asked, confused. His eyes cast over the five other people in the circle before looking back at Kloppman. "Oh, um, I don't have AIDS."

David realized at once that he had said the wrong thing. It got very tense in the room at the moment though no one said anything; in fact, it was the silence that followed his statement that made him uncomfortable. He gulped and tried to remove the overlarge foot he had just stuck in his mouth. "No, I didn't mean it like that. It's just that, I was invited." He gestured wildly toward Mush and Blink. Blink looked to the side as if he had never seen David before in his life; Must, at least, waved at him.

He felt more like an ass now. He shook his head as if that would erase all of the stupid things he had said. "Hi. I'm David. I just thought I'd come by and… uh… watch, I guess." That sounded just as dumb as everything else he had already said.

David was about to leave, while he still had some dignity left, but was stopped when Kloppman smiled. "Welcome, David. We were just getting started. Take a seat."

David thanked Kloppman but did not move. Instead, he lifted his camera up. "I know this sounds weird and all but I'm working on a photo project. Pictures of New Yorkers doing what they do, you know. I was wondering if I could take a few pictures."

Kloppman turned to his crew. "Does anyone have a problem with that?"

Tony's upper lip quirked. "Any money in it, Davey?"

David tried hard to overlook his being called 'Davey' and shook his head. "No. It's just a collection. It's not a commission or anything."

"Alright then," Tony shrugged. It seems, once he found out that there was no money in it, it did not interest him.

None of the other's said anything else. Kloppman gave him the thumbs-up. "Go right ahead."

David took a few steps back, trying to get most of the group in his shot, as he set up his camera. He tried to do it as quietly as he could; he did not want to clicking and snapping of the camera to interrupt the meeting.

Almost right away, the rest of them seemed to ignore his presence. They went back to what they were doing before David interrupted them.

Kloppman tried again. "Who wants to start?"

This time, Skittery sat straight up in his seat. "I'll go, Kloppy."

"Wonderful. What do you have to share with us, son? How do you feel?"

"I feel scared shitless. How do you think I feel?" Skittery was scowling again.

Kloppman, it seemed, was just as used to his attitude. He gestured for him to continue. "And why is that?"

Skittery huffed and cast his eyes around the room before settling on the benign face of the old man right in front of him. "Oh, I don't know. Let's see. Maybe it's because I went to see my doc the other day. He told me that my T-cells were getting low. He says I'm getting close to the end and he doesn't know what to do anymore."

Another tense quiet followed Skittery's admission. The only sound that could be heard was the clicking of David's camera. Blink shot him a look that told him it was not the moment to be snapping away; David got the hint and lowered his camera.

"Alright, Skittery. How did you feel when he told you that?" Kloppman asked.

Skittery looked thoughtful for a second before cracking a smile. It looked quite at odds with his hardened face. "Actually, I felt pretty damn good."

"Then why are you afraid?"

"I'm a New Yorker. Fear's my life."

The tension lifted. The group allowed themselves a chuckle. They could all relate to Skittery's sentiment. They were not laughing at him, though – they were laughing at themselves. Sometimes it was just good to do that. To remind themselves that they are not dead yet. Sick, definitely. Dead, not quite – not yet.

David chose that moment to take a snapshot.

Years later, when almost all of the people in that picture had succumbed to disease (including Kloppman, who died of cancer two years following this meeting – though he continued hosting the Life Support meetings more than ever after he found out his own health was failing), David would look back on that day.

In that picture, he saw life. It was a pressured life, thrust in front of a very real threat of death. But those people – those six people he captured with his camera – were living their lives.

The picture was probably one of the best that he had ever taken: Kloppman was smiling at Skittery, who, for once, had lost his guarded expression. Charlotte had lifted her head up and there was a spark of hope in her nearly-dead green eyes. Tony was out and out laughing, his mouth caught wide open – it was not difficult at all to read his expression in that picture.

And then there was Blink and Mush. Sitting there as if all was right in the world, even though they had only met the day before and had no idea of what lay in store for them in the months to come.

Even though they were sitting there, laughing along with the other groups at the comment Skittery made, there was just something about them that set them apart.

It had taken him repeated viewings of the picture to figure out just what it was. There, just behind their chair, hard to see due to the angle of the shot, he could see it: the two of them were inconspicuously holding hands. They were acting like a pair of teenagers in love and it was that simple gesture, more than every other emotion caught in that one picture, that broke David's heart every time he looked at it.