Fanfic--Collins/Maureen--085
Title: Marky’s Girl
Fanfic
Characters: Collins, Benny, Mark, Roger, Maureen
Prompt: 085. She
Word Count: 960
Summary: I wish that I had Marky’s girl
Author’s Notes: Was listening to “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield when this idea came to me.
Disclaimer: I don’t own, I just rent. Thank you Jonathan Larson.
“Pookie,” Maureen called into the bedroom. “I’m going out, okay?” She slipped her black boots over her feet and wrapped her pink scarf around her neck.
“Okay, Maureen,” he said, coming out into the main room. “Have fun,” he murmured, kissing her cheek.
“Will you relax?” she asked, resting her forehead against his. “I’m just going out with some of the girls from work. I’ll be back later.” Maureen leaned in and kissed him deeply before turning and sliding the door open. “See you later, baby.”
“Bye,” he waved, a dazed look on his face.
“Oh, you got it bad,” Collins said from his perch in the laz-y boy.
“Yeah,” Mark replied quietly. “What?”
“Nothing,” Collins chuckled.
“Must you do that in front of everyone?” Benny asked, pulling his head out of a newspaper.
Mark felt his face flushing as he grinned.
“Well boys, it’s just us tonight,” Roger said. “What are we gonna do?”
“Get drunk,” Benny announced, climbing off of the couch.
“Oh no,” Mark shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes you can,” Collins laughed, following Benny into the kitchen. The two men returned with plastic cups, a bottle of fruit juice and couple bottles of Stoli.
Roger unfolded himself from the windowsill and joined the other boys on the floor, bringing his guitar over. Collins opened the first glass bottle while Benny lined up four cups. A clear liquid splashed into each of the cups. Benny dumped some fruit juice into one of the cups and handed it to Mark. Roger took his plain with Collins while Benny added some juice to his.
“Drink up,” Collins ordered as the cups were raised and tipped into the mouths of the Boho boys.
* * * *
Roger strummed clumsily at his guitar while he sang loudly. “Sweeeeeet home Alabama…”
Mark giggled, amused by the guitarists slurred lyrics and the fact that it appeared as though Roger had eight fingers on each hand. He hiccupped once, which made him laugh even harder. Collins shook his head at the drunken cameraman, chuckling to himself. Benny sat quietly, leaning against the couch, as he watched his roommates. Mark stopped laughing and sat silently as well. He curled himself into a ball and tipped on his side, lying on the hard wooden floor.
“You okay, Mark?” Collins asked.
“Mhm,” the cameraman hummed. “Uh oh,” he muttered before bolting up and rushing towards the bathroom.
Benny chuckled, knowing full well what Mark was doing in there. “The albino can’t hold his liquor.”
Roger laughed again, louder this time, flopping onto the floor. He looked over at Benny. “Mark’s puking,” he announced.
“I know,” Benny replied. “So Rog, how’s April been? She hasn’t been around much lately. She okay?”
“She’s fine,” he assured the businessman. “She got mad at me the other day, but she’ll get over it. I should probably go see her.”
“Probably,” Benny said. “What about you, Collins? Any new lovers we should know about?”
Collins shook his head. “Nah,” he replied, pouring more vodka into his plastic cup. “You?”
Benny shook his head as well. “Nope,” he said. “Was seeing this brunette for a while, named Leah, but it didn’t work out. Turns out she had a boyfriend.”
“Hey guys,” Mark said, stumbling back to the floor. He sat down clumsily, landing with a thud.
“Feel better?” Roger asked, looking over at the blond.
Mark nodded, clutching his head. “I vomited.”
“We know,” Benny said. “These walls aren’t exactly soundproof.”
“So how’s it going with Maureen, while we’re on the subject of relationships,” Collins asked.
“It’s good,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “It’s good. We haven’t had any fights in the past week. She’s been home almost every night, too.”
“That’s good, man,” Collins said as the cameraman joined the guitarist in lying on the floor.
Mark nodded as his eyes closed. “Wha about you?” he yawned.
“Nothing,” Collins replied. “You’re the only one of us getting any.”
Mark chuckled as he curled up on his side. Benny reached a foot out and poked at Roger, gently nudging the guitarist. Roger didn’t move, but snored loudly. Benny stuffed his hand into his mouth to muffle the giggles.
“White boy can’t drink,” he murmured, pointing to the two boys sleeping on the floor.
“Too much booze for them,” Collins nodded in agreement. “I bet Maureen will love to come home to a hung over Marky.”
“She’ll be rather disappointed, won’t she?” Benny chuckled.
Collins shook his head, laughing as well. “Mo’s great though,” Collins said. “She’s a drama queen, but she’s a sweetheart.”
Benny nodded, not saying anything. The two men sat in silence for a moment. “Hey, Collins,” Benny mumbled. “Can I tell you something? You’ve gotta promise not to tell anyone, okay?”
“All right,” Collins said, looking skeptically at the other black man.
“I wish I had someone like Maureen.”
Collins felt his jaw drop and his eyes widen. “What?”
“Not Maureen, exactly,” Benny said. “She drives me up the friggen wall. But I wish I had what Mark has.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” Benny said. “I know she’s a flirt, trust me, I know. And I know she cheated on him. And I know she’s obnoxious and a drama queen, but she loves him. She really loves him. I don’t know what that’s like.”
Collins nodded, understanding. “Me either.”
“They’re sickeningly cute and mushy all the time, they love each other. I wouldn’t mind having that.”
“Me either.”
Little did Tom Collins know that a young drag queen was sitting at home alone, thinking about him, wondering when she’d get the chance to talk to him, wishing she, too, had what the cameraman had.
It was August 1989 and in a few short months, everything would change.
Fanfic
Characters: Collins, Benny, Mark, Roger, Maureen
Prompt: 085. She
Word Count: 960
Summary: I wish that I had Marky’s girl
Author’s Notes: Was listening to “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield when this idea came to me.
Disclaimer: I don’t own, I just rent. Thank you Jonathan Larson.
“Pookie,” Maureen called into the bedroom. “I’m going out, okay?” She slipped her black boots over her feet and wrapped her pink scarf around her neck.
“Okay, Maureen,” he said, coming out into the main room. “Have fun,” he murmured, kissing her cheek.
“Will you relax?” she asked, resting her forehead against his. “I’m just going out with some of the girls from work. I’ll be back later.” Maureen leaned in and kissed him deeply before turning and sliding the door open. “See you later, baby.”
“Bye,” he waved, a dazed look on his face.
“Oh, you got it bad,” Collins said from his perch in the laz-y boy.
“Yeah,” Mark replied quietly. “What?”
“Nothing,” Collins chuckled.
“Must you do that in front of everyone?” Benny asked, pulling his head out of a newspaper.
Mark felt his face flushing as he grinned.
“Well boys, it’s just us tonight,” Roger said. “What are we gonna do?”
“Get drunk,” Benny announced, climbing off of the couch.
“Oh no,” Mark shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes you can,” Collins laughed, following Benny into the kitchen. The two men returned with plastic cups, a bottle of fruit juice and couple bottles of Stoli.
Roger unfolded himself from the windowsill and joined the other boys on the floor, bringing his guitar over. Collins opened the first glass bottle while Benny lined up four cups. A clear liquid splashed into each of the cups. Benny dumped some fruit juice into one of the cups and handed it to Mark. Roger took his plain with Collins while Benny added some juice to his.
“Drink up,” Collins ordered as the cups were raised and tipped into the mouths of the Boho boys.
* * * *
Roger strummed clumsily at his guitar while he sang loudly. “Sweeeeeet home Alabama…”
Mark giggled, amused by the guitarists slurred lyrics and the fact that it appeared as though Roger had eight fingers on each hand. He hiccupped once, which made him laugh even harder. Collins shook his head at the drunken cameraman, chuckling to himself. Benny sat quietly, leaning against the couch, as he watched his roommates. Mark stopped laughing and sat silently as well. He curled himself into a ball and tipped on his side, lying on the hard wooden floor.
“You okay, Mark?” Collins asked.
“Mhm,” the cameraman hummed. “Uh oh,” he muttered before bolting up and rushing towards the bathroom.
Benny chuckled, knowing full well what Mark was doing in there. “The albino can’t hold his liquor.”
Roger laughed again, louder this time, flopping onto the floor. He looked over at Benny. “Mark’s puking,” he announced.
“I know,” Benny replied. “So Rog, how’s April been? She hasn’t been around much lately. She okay?”
“She’s fine,” he assured the businessman. “She got mad at me the other day, but she’ll get over it. I should probably go see her.”
“Probably,” Benny said. “What about you, Collins? Any new lovers we should know about?”
Collins shook his head. “Nah,” he replied, pouring more vodka into his plastic cup. “You?”
Benny shook his head as well. “Nope,” he said. “Was seeing this brunette for a while, named Leah, but it didn’t work out. Turns out she had a boyfriend.”
“Hey guys,” Mark said, stumbling back to the floor. He sat down clumsily, landing with a thud.
“Feel better?” Roger asked, looking over at the blond.
Mark nodded, clutching his head. “I vomited.”
“We know,” Benny said. “These walls aren’t exactly soundproof.”
“So how’s it going with Maureen, while we’re on the subject of relationships,” Collins asked.
“It’s good,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “It’s good. We haven’t had any fights in the past week. She’s been home almost every night, too.”
“That’s good, man,” Collins said as the cameraman joined the guitarist in lying on the floor.
Mark nodded as his eyes closed. “Wha about you?” he yawned.
“Nothing,” Collins replied. “You’re the only one of us getting any.”
Mark chuckled as he curled up on his side. Benny reached a foot out and poked at Roger, gently nudging the guitarist. Roger didn’t move, but snored loudly. Benny stuffed his hand into his mouth to muffle the giggles.
“White boy can’t drink,” he murmured, pointing to the two boys sleeping on the floor.
“Too much booze for them,” Collins nodded in agreement. “I bet Maureen will love to come home to a hung over Marky.”
“She’ll be rather disappointed, won’t she?” Benny chuckled.
Collins shook his head, laughing as well. “Mo’s great though,” Collins said. “She’s a drama queen, but she’s a sweetheart.”
Benny nodded, not saying anything. The two men sat in silence for a moment. “Hey, Collins,” Benny mumbled. “Can I tell you something? You’ve gotta promise not to tell anyone, okay?”
“All right,” Collins said, looking skeptically at the other black man.
“I wish I had someone like Maureen.”
Collins felt his jaw drop and his eyes widen. “What?”
“Not Maureen, exactly,” Benny said. “She drives me up the friggen wall. But I wish I had what Mark has.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” Benny said. “I know she’s a flirt, trust me, I know. And I know she cheated on him. And I know she’s obnoxious and a drama queen, but she loves him. She really loves him. I don’t know what that’s like.”
Collins nodded, understanding. “Me either.”
“They’re sickeningly cute and mushy all the time, they love each other. I wouldn’t mind having that.”
“Me either.”
Little did Tom Collins know that a young drag queen was sitting at home alone, thinking about him, wondering when she’d get the chance to talk to him, wishing she, too, had what the cameraman had.
It was August 1989 and in a few short months, everything would change.