It was a bit surreal now. The world was transcending all around her and Maureen hoped that she could be apart from it all, just as she always had. It wasn't so, though, because now she had been thrown straight into the middle of it all, pushed into something equivalent to a heavy trafficked New York City street. Maureen wasn't used to existing in the same scope as the rest of the world, and now that she was—it was going to destroy her.

Reality and karma had teamed up against her, it seemed. She couldn't look at that…that thing buried in the trashcan. It couldn't really be there. She resisted the temptation to poke through and see. Making it exist wasn't in anyone's best interest.

Joanne was in the kitchen again. Maureen didn't want to think about the woman now. Shakily she opened the door, stepping out of the bathroom, which now doubled as her worst nightmare. "Pookie?"

Her head snapped around. "Yes, Maureen?"

The locked eyes for a minute or two. Maureen wanted to tell, she wanted Joanne to see. She wanted to say something, but her throat hurt so much…

"I'm going to go take a nap."

"Okay…"

She tried to ignore the fire burning inside the pit of her stomach and her throat as she turned on her heel for the bedroom, closing the door behind her. The tears came even before she hit the bed. Joanne's pillow was hugged close to her person—she could smell the scent of her lover. Another added bonus—said pillow worked especially well at muffling sobs.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She was always able to cry her problems away. But she was crying now, and she assumed that she'd be crying for a long time to come. This problem wouldn't go away so easily.

0----0

"Baby, it was just a friendly visit."

"Are you sure?"

"You don't have to worry, Allison. I love you."

That was the easiest way to get her off of his back.

"You're so sweet."

"I'll be home a little later, but in time for dinner. Bye."

Benjamin turned his attention on the girl sitting next to him at the bar. She was giving him one of those smiles.

"Nikki, I told you that this is the last time. I'm married."

"That never stopped you before," she cooed.

"I'm trying the route of a faithful husband now."

She fingered the collar of his shirt. "That's no fun," was her childlike pout.

"I love my wife."

"Not a lot, obviously."

Benny stood up, pulling her hands from him. "Forget it," he snapped.

"Benny, I—"

The rest of his drink was quickly downed, and the glass slammed onto the counter. His exit was quick and he walked to his Range Rover, parked on the side of the road in its customary spot. He had been bringing girls to this bar ever since he started fooling around. He had started fooling around long before he could remember, even before he married Allison. It was just something that he did. Not that he really wanted to hurt her; he was just a natural born player, to put a nice ring to it. He dialed his house phone.

"Alison, baby? I just called to let you know that there's been a slight change in plans. I'm heading home now."

"Really? Oh, Benny, that's wonderful!"

"Yeah. I love you."

He meant it, he really did. He only hoped that she never found a reason to doubt that.

0----0

It was amazing how Collins could still feel a shadow of the fury with which Angel had assaulted his lips. She was asleep on his chest now. Collins loved how peaceful his lover's sleep was, but if often worried him to the point where he kept a hand on Angel's chest to make sure that breath was still being drawn.

It was a baggy shirt of his that she wore—she claimed that the rain had chilled her a bit. He worried about this. He wouldn't have her getting sick—in her situation that could prove fatal.

Collins closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the couch. Maybe he could get a little nap in too. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and he situated his head next to hers. He wanted to freeze these moments in time, to abandon everything that he believed about living life in the moment, so that they could forever stay just like that. But they didn't have forever—something that he knew all too well.

0----0

It was with great restraint that Mimi didn't go down to the park to hunt for The Man. She wanted to get back at Roger…but she had to tell herself that it wasn't worth it. She wasn't going to set herself back out of spite. So Mimi sat down on her bed and pulled out an old book. It was a diary, with a wooden cover. On it were she and Angel's names. They'd both write entries in it and pass it off to the other. They could say anything in the diary, a way to share their secrets.

She opened it and flipped through its old, dusty pages. Mimi recognized Angel's neat cursive and her own almost illegible scrawl. Entries dated back long ago, before the days of true loves and disease. She flipped to the first clean sheet and picked up a pen from off of the nightstand. It was her fight with Roger and the way that she was resisting her temptations that she wrote about. She wrote about how she was scared of dying, and how she wondered how much time they all had left.

It was a big step, being able to write it all down. That made it real, made it tangible. The pen poised over the words. In a couple of scrapes across the paper, all of her words drowned in a puddle of blue ink. There were some things better left inside.

0FIN0

Note: I tried to post this on the 24th, but, as some of you may know, the website was being stupid and wouldn't let me. But I have chapter three ready, and a bit of chapter four, so you can expect them soon.

Did you guys know that you're all amazing? Seriously! I didn't expect all of the positive feedback that I got! I'm so thrilled you guys!

You all rock my world. Seriously. I LOVE YOU!

I've started on the next chapter, I hope to have it up soon!