Men
"Miss Barrett?"
The apartment manager popped out from behind the poolhouse. Was he stalking her?
"Miss Barrett, the rent still hasn't been paid."
What? What now?"
"I have been going back and forth with Mr. Truman's office and the bank and I'm not getting anywhere. It should not be this complicated. I'm really going to have to insist that the rent be paid immediately. All of these difficulties are beginning to seem suspicious."
"Okay, I'll call Mr. Truman right away."
Ring.
Machine.
"H-hello, Mr. Truman... Jason, it's Angela. The apartment manager just stopped me and said they still don't have the money. I'm afraid they're going to lock me out or something; I don't know what to do. I got a job, but... well, it's gonna be a while before I get paid, and anyway I don't know if it'll be enough for the rent here, and-"
"Hello, Angela?"
"Jason!" Thank God.
"Listen, I'm on my way to a meeting. Can you call back later?"
"Um, well, it's about the rent."
"What is it *now*?"
"I know you said you sent the money but they say they still don't have it."
"I swear, what kind of a scam are they running?"
"I- I don't know. Is there any way you could send it again?"
"Why? They already have it!"
"Well, is there any way you could check on your end to know that for sure?"
There was a pause. "Well, of course there is. But it might take me a couple of days to get to it."
"I don't think they'll give me a couple of days."
"Well, they'll have to. It's chaos here; my assistant took the week off and swore she would have things taken care of while she was gone but the *bimbo* she hired to fill in doesn't know a goddamn thing! I've been trying to reach her but-"
"Mr. Truman, please." Angela was near tears. "I'm sorry things aren't going well there, but I really need this taken care of. I don't have anyone else."
"I could swear those apartment people are screwing up on purpose. And you know the court rescheduled your hearing again? That's the third time." Truman sighed; just a little bit of the angry edge came off. "You know, it's a good thing I've got deep pockets, because the way this is dragging out it's costing a small fortune. I'm trying to take care of things for you, but just a *little* gratitude would be nice."
Angela thought to herself that technically it hadn't yet cost him a "small fortune" since technically he hadn't paid the rent yet. But she wasn't going to push it. "I'm sorry" was all she said.
Truman's fire faded. "Well shoot, Angela, I didn't mean to rip you a new one like that. I'm just a little testy right now -- just got off the phone with- ... well, listen to me, telling you my business like it matters. Tell your landlord they'll have their money by courier tomorrow. Cash -- I'm sure they can figure out what to do with that. So, we okay, kiddo?"
He did seem genuinely apologetic, in his own business-rude sort of way. "Yeah, it's okay."
"Well all right then. I gotta run. I'll call you as soon as I know something, all right?"
Angela sighed. How much deeper was this going to get? "All right. Thank you."
"Happy to oblige." Click.
Day, night; Angela scarcely noticed anymore.
Is it Monday, or Tuesday?
Am I awake, or dreaming?
What does it matter?
The question makes Angela think for a long time.
I guess it doesn't.
Detective Rubio is here.
Miguel.
He looks the same standing in front of her as he does through the peephole.
Maybe because he's right in her face.
"What do you mean, it's over? It's not over till I say it's over!"
"He doesn't want to see me anymore. And he fired me."
"Fired you? Does he suspect you or something?"
"I don't know."
"When did this happen?"
"Saturday night."
"And I'm just finding out about this now? What have you been doing about it?"
Her brow furrows. What can she do? "Nothing."
"Can't you get in his face? Show up naked in his bed? Hell, at least break into his apartment and steal his MP3 player."
Her eyes roll before resuming their dull stare out the window. Or at least at the slivers of light between the blinds.
"What about Moroshkin? Have you tried cozying up to him?"
She ignores him.
"Are you even listening to me?"
Barely.
"This is about Ricky, isn't it? He found out about your man on the side, and now you feel guilty."
No.
"Listen, missy, don't give me this broken-hearted having-second-thoughts crap. You said you were in this for the whole way. You said you were serious. What the fuck? ...Maybe you can just wake up one morning and decide you've changed your mind, but I've got expenses, I've got a boss, I've got... expectations."
"Sorry." But not really.
"Do I have to remind you what deep shit you could be in with Moroshkin's people if it leaks out that you've been snitching?"
"I don't care."
"Oh, you don't care. You don't care. *You* don't care. ...Fuck! Are you out of your mind?"
"Probably."
"You know, if this all goes to shit, I'm gonna have to give you up. I have to have *some* explanation for what I've been doing all this time."
"You won't. How would it look?" Finally seeing things clearly is depressing, but at least I can see through Miguel's bullshit.
"Jesus. You're unbelieveable. It's like you've got a death wish or something." Softening. "Listen, kiddo, I'm sorry things got rough, but you can't let it get to you like this. Buck up. I'm sure if you give it a little thought you'll see a way through this thing. You're a sharp kid. Come on, let's go get a milkshake or something."
God, he's pathetic.
"Are you on drugs?" Hand grabs her chin; eyes staring, probing. "What the hell are you on?" Footsteps toward the counter; bottles rattling. "Xanax and -- what is this, Glitter? This is the good stuff. No wonder you're broke. You don't mix these, do you? How many of these did you take?" Hand on her chin again. "How many?" Loud voice.
"Just one. And don't yell. I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're fucked up. You're a fucking junkie. I thought you were smarter than this."
"No you didn't." He's getting desperate.
"I'm really disappointed in you."
What, now he's my dad? "Join the club."
Hand on her chin again; pulling hard. "You better think about who you're fucking with."
"What, are you gonna hit me now?" At least that might answer the awake/dreaming question. "Between you and the Russian Mafiya, which would you pick?" Chin released; back to a blank stare.
Footsteps retreating. "This is just sad. Really sad."
"Pills are on the counter."
Door opening. "What would Ricky think, seeing you like this?"
Interesting question actually. "He wanted me to quit, so, he'd be happy, I guess." Not comforting, though. Just something else to regret.
"You're impossible. I'll come back later when the shit wears off." Almost caring. "Don't do anything stupid, okay?"
"Too late."
An exasperated sigh.
A door slam.
I hope it isn't a dream, because if it is I'll have to have that conversation again when I wake up.
Ricky. I hope he's happy.
Maybe I should call him and give him the "good" news.
What news? He didn't really know what I was doing.
And it's not like I'm quitting completely, right? That's the only thing he cares about.
But as pointless and stupid as it all is, going out there beats just letting it happen, doesn't it? Anyway, it's something to do.
It's what I should have been doing all along. This whole "undercover" thing is a waste. Nobody trusts anybody anymore. And for good reason.
Anyway, Ricky's better off without me. He's got Becky now. The little tramp will probably break his heart. But there's nothing I can do about that.
Nothing I *should* do anyway.
Sigh.
I should talk to Dino. He's being stupid, messing everything up.
I should tell him who I am. Show him. So he doesn't have to be afraid anymore.
Like you showed Ricky?
We can work it out together. We can work together to take down Kostya's organization.
If he wanted to do that, he can do it himself. He doesn't need you. Anyway, why bother? You're a superheroine. Fight crime? Just go in and bust heads and break it up. Let the cops worry about the evidence after the fact; there will be plenty laying around once you point it out. All this waiting around for the big fish to bite; they never reel them in anyway, and if they do, they just let 'em go. It's stupid. Let some girl who doesn't have super powers use her feminine wiles and do things the hard way.
That doesn't help Dino. He stuck his neck out for me.
He's a criminal. Besides, if Kostya and Dino are enemies because of you, that's a good thing -- you struck a blow against organized crime.
But I don't want him to get hurt. He's a good man. Or at least there's a good man inside him.
When you started this, you were trying to put him away. Look what you did to yourself. Look what chasing him did to you. Think about what you sacrificed. You can't save everybody.
I can't even save myself. Can't anybody save me? Can't anybody just *be* with me?
With who? Who are you? Angela? Sapphire? Heaven?
I don't know. Just me. Just love me.
Love isn't real.
But there'd been moments when she'd believed it could be real . . .