Categories > Theatre > Rent > Someone to Live For
Through the Grapevine
0 reviewsIn which Mark learns Angel is a rumor mill veteran, and meets another of Angel's friends.
0Unrated
Someone to Live For
Through the Grapevine
------
In which Mark learns Angel is a rumor mill veteran, and meets another of Angel's friends.
Disclaimer: Lena is mine, but otherwise: Borrowing from the late, great Jonathan Larson. Will return when finished.
------
Mark doesn't work up the nerve to ask Angel about the skirts until after Thanksgiving break, and even then, the question just sort of slips out over lunch. It's... well, it's not the sort of thing you'd ask most people.
But then, Angel is not most people.
"How do you get away with it?"
Angel raises an eyebrow. "Get away with what?"
"Um. The... skirt thing." Mark can feel his cheeks heating up. "Sorry, forget I asked--"
"No, don't worry about it. I just wasn't sure where your train of thought was going. But... you mean you haven't heard any of the rumors?"
"There are rumors about you?" Mark asks, almost despite himself.
"Yeah. Most of them are true, though I have no idea where people got the idea I'm banging every guy I can get my hands on. I mean, really, I'm not stupid."
Mark has absolutely no idea what to say to that, so he just sits there and grows more and more certain his face is bright red.
"Hey, relax. That's the one that's not true." A pause for thought, then: "Well, and one of the others is only partially true. Suppose I should give 'em credit for the Monty Python quote, but there's no hanging around in bars involved."
"How's that a Python quote?"
"You mean you haven't heard the Lumberjack Song? Oh, I'm going to have to remedy that. Suffice to say word about the skirts is starting to get around. I'm sure the administration wouldn't like the idea, if they could prove it, but since I don't show up in that during the school day, there's not much they can do."
"Well, I guess not. Do many people even know it's you?"
"Officially? I think the count's at about ten. Who knows, far as the rumor mill's concerned." Angel shrugs, and eats some of his French fries.
"I don't see how you can be so... so calm about it."
"What, is he shrugging off his rumor mill experience again? He's had a while to perfect the technique."
Mark blinks, and looks up; a blonde girl in a gray turtleneck is in the process of sitting down across the table from him, next to Angel. Angel grins, and says, "Returned to the land of the living, have you?"
"Did that two weeks ago," the girl replies. "I'm only just now getting back to the land of the non-contagious. So who're you telling about your occasionally misinterpreted adventures now?"
"Lena, this is Mark. Met him at that dance right before you got sick. Mark, this is Lena."
"Nice to meet you," Lena says. A moment later, she adds, "You're in my history class, I think. Granted, I haven't been in there in a month, so I can't really say for sure. Damn mono."
"Nice to meet you too. How do you know Angel?"
"You mean he hasn't explained that one yet?"
"Explained what?"
Angel grins. "I was getting to that. Honestly, Lena, I can't always start with the story you're part of." He turns to Mark and says, "I was in a Girl Scout troop for about two weeks, when I was eight. And then one of the girls realized I was a cootie-laden boy and freaked out, and her parents complained, and they had to kick me out."
"Her parents pulled her out of the troop the next year anyway," Lena adds. "I just thought he had a lot of guts for trying something like that in the first place."
"...No kidding," Mark finally manages. "How'd you... why did you even..."
Angel shrugs. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. And my parents must've resigned themselves to the idea that they probably wouldn't get grandchildren out of me sometime around then. Only reason I can think of that they haven't taken me to task over my taste in clothes."
"Or guys," Lena adds.
"You hush!"
Mark just watches the two of them go at it for a while, trying to process some of the information that just got dumped on him. It's definitely answered a couple of his questions, but now he's not sure why he ever thought it'd make Angel any easier to figure out.
"You know, Angel," he finally says, "you're just full of surprises."
Angel grins. "Well, I do what I can."
Through the Grapevine
------
In which Mark learns Angel is a rumor mill veteran, and meets another of Angel's friends.
Disclaimer: Lena is mine, but otherwise: Borrowing from the late, great Jonathan Larson. Will return when finished.
------
Mark doesn't work up the nerve to ask Angel about the skirts until after Thanksgiving break, and even then, the question just sort of slips out over lunch. It's... well, it's not the sort of thing you'd ask most people.
But then, Angel is not most people.
"How do you get away with it?"
Angel raises an eyebrow. "Get away with what?"
"Um. The... skirt thing." Mark can feel his cheeks heating up. "Sorry, forget I asked--"
"No, don't worry about it. I just wasn't sure where your train of thought was going. But... you mean you haven't heard any of the rumors?"
"There are rumors about you?" Mark asks, almost despite himself.
"Yeah. Most of them are true, though I have no idea where people got the idea I'm banging every guy I can get my hands on. I mean, really, I'm not stupid."
Mark has absolutely no idea what to say to that, so he just sits there and grows more and more certain his face is bright red.
"Hey, relax. That's the one that's not true." A pause for thought, then: "Well, and one of the others is only partially true. Suppose I should give 'em credit for the Monty Python quote, but there's no hanging around in bars involved."
"How's that a Python quote?"
"You mean you haven't heard the Lumberjack Song? Oh, I'm going to have to remedy that. Suffice to say word about the skirts is starting to get around. I'm sure the administration wouldn't like the idea, if they could prove it, but since I don't show up in that during the school day, there's not much they can do."
"Well, I guess not. Do many people even know it's you?"
"Officially? I think the count's at about ten. Who knows, far as the rumor mill's concerned." Angel shrugs, and eats some of his French fries.
"I don't see how you can be so... so calm about it."
"What, is he shrugging off his rumor mill experience again? He's had a while to perfect the technique."
Mark blinks, and looks up; a blonde girl in a gray turtleneck is in the process of sitting down across the table from him, next to Angel. Angel grins, and says, "Returned to the land of the living, have you?"
"Did that two weeks ago," the girl replies. "I'm only just now getting back to the land of the non-contagious. So who're you telling about your occasionally misinterpreted adventures now?"
"Lena, this is Mark. Met him at that dance right before you got sick. Mark, this is Lena."
"Nice to meet you," Lena says. A moment later, she adds, "You're in my history class, I think. Granted, I haven't been in there in a month, so I can't really say for sure. Damn mono."
"Nice to meet you too. How do you know Angel?"
"You mean he hasn't explained that one yet?"
"Explained what?"
Angel grins. "I was getting to that. Honestly, Lena, I can't always start with the story you're part of." He turns to Mark and says, "I was in a Girl Scout troop for about two weeks, when I was eight. And then one of the girls realized I was a cootie-laden boy and freaked out, and her parents complained, and they had to kick me out."
"Her parents pulled her out of the troop the next year anyway," Lena adds. "I just thought he had a lot of guts for trying something like that in the first place."
"...No kidding," Mark finally manages. "How'd you... why did you even..."
Angel shrugs. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. And my parents must've resigned themselves to the idea that they probably wouldn't get grandchildren out of me sometime around then. Only reason I can think of that they haven't taken me to task over my taste in clothes."
"Or guys," Lena adds.
"You hush!"
Mark just watches the two of them go at it for a while, trying to process some of the information that just got dumped on him. It's definitely answered a couple of his questions, but now he's not sure why he ever thought it'd make Angel any easier to figure out.
"You know, Angel," he finally says, "you're just full of surprises."
Angel grins. "Well, I do what I can."
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