Author's Note: WAHHHH!! :'( I'm so unbelievably depressed. RENT is CLOSED!! :'( I've been acting like a Roger impersonator all day. Seriously. Anyway, I would write one of those goodbye RENT things, but it would probably end up sucking, so you guys are getting a Roger/Mimi oneshot instead. Read and review! It will brighten my very depressed mood! By the way, this takes place right after La Vie Boheme ends and this is musical verse.
Disclaimer: If I owned RENT, tonight's show would certainly not be the last.
Roger slowly leaned in, pressing his lips softly to Mimi's. The feeling of her lips against his sent shivers down his spine and he couldn't help but smile as his pulse slowly quickened.
The two pulled away and stood there in silence for a few moments as steam from Mimi's hot breathe circulated through the air.
"Um, do you wanna, um?" Roger suggested, nodding toward the door.
"Sure," Mimi replied, smiling meekly before following him inside, both of them looking like nervous teenagers.
"Would you like something to drink?" Roger asked, "Well, all we have is water, you know, if it's still running, but-".
"I'm fine", Mimi giggled, cutting off a stuttering Roger before plopping on the couch.
"So," Roger began, taking a seat next to Mimi.
"So", she repeated.
"Why did you start using heroine?" Roger inquired, "I mean, if you don't want to talk about it that's fine, I was just-"
"It was last December. I had just moved to the Lower East Side about two months before", she explained, "I used to live in Spanish Harlem. Anyway, I got my job at the Catscratch Club for some extra cash, and started seeing this great guy. I met him at a bar on Avenue A and 11th. You know the one that has the sign out front that says "one of the top ten dives in America?"
"That never fails to crack me up", Roger added, causing Mimi to let out a small laugh.
"So, I met him there. He was the bartender. His name was Jason and he was just…perfect. He was just so sweet and amazing and it was so easy to let myself fall for him. I guess he was my first real love. Little did I know, his was this waitress, Veronica. Turns out he knocked her up", Mimi continued.
Roger sat there, eyeing her, completely amazed. He had never met someone so strong. Her voice did not crack, tears did not come to her eyes, and she just continued speaking as though she were giving a recap of an episode of Days of Our Lives.
"I went to work that night as per usual. I was pretty damn depressed, but trying my best to get it out of my mind. After work, I was headed out when a dancer who used to work there, Shawna, asked me why I looked like crap. So, I bitched to her about the whole cruddy situation. Then, she handed me a small bag with white powder in it and a needle. She said it was hers, but that she'd be willing to give it to me, considering my situation. She said it would kill the pain. So, I went home and did a hit. And then another one. And then another. I promised myself I wouldn't do it anymore. I knew if fucked you up, but I couldn't stop", she admitted, "Then, Angel got AIDS and I just felt worse and worse. He was all I had at the time and he was going to be gone. I guess it's just…my life is seriously fucked up, Roger, and I needed to find some way to kill the pain. I guess smack just so happened to be it".
Roger just stared, wondering if he was blinking. After talking on and on about her darkest secrets, her biggest hardships, and greatest worries, Mimi simply sat there. Her voice unwavering, no tears welling in her large brown eyes that Roger simply couldn't get enough of. She simply watched him, waiting for his reaction.
Unsure of what to say, Roger wrapped her into his warm embrace and planted a kiss on the top of her mass of dark brown curls, feeling a fire burn in the pit of his stomach as he held her.
"What about you?" Mimi probed.
"Hmm?" Roger responded, looking down at the tiny brunette.
"Why did you start doing heroin?" Mimi questioned.
"I was playing a gig in this club with my band. I was front and center, singing out to the crowd, and glancing through it, when I spotted someone. She had the most beautiful smile as she watched me, surrounded by a mass of fiery red hair. Throughout the gig, I kept my eye on her, entranced by her facial expressions and every movement. After we were done playing, I found her in the crowd and we went to a bar. It's funny you should mention that one on 11th and Avenue A, because that's the one we went to. We sat there for hours talking about life, and just about everything. I gave her my number and she called a few days later. From then on out, we were in a serious relationship, and she even moved in with Benny, Collins, Mark, Maureen, and I. Then, one day, she came home from a walk and immediately went into the bedroom. I was tuning my guitar, not really paying much attention to her, when finally, I began to wonder what the hell she was doing in there for so longer. When I entered the room, I saw April huddled over her arm, shooting up. I yelled her, and told her how much that stuff can fuck you up, and we got in a huge fight. Eventually, we made up, and she promised not to do it again. But that didn't make her stop, and I knew it. She would always come home from her shift at the Crooked Tree Creperie later than I expected, and I sure as hell knew why. I guess I just didn't want to confront her because I was afraid we would break up, and at the time, she was the best thing I had. Then, my band broke up, and I was on my own. Day in and day out, I would sit alone in that dreary loft, trying to write one great song. Just one. I finally got so fucking frustrated, that I turned to heroine, and April no longer kept the fact that she used a secret. Whenever I was frustrated or down on myself, shooting up cured it. It helped me to escape the real world. That is until one day. It was June 5th of this year. Mark and I were coming back from dinner, April had decided to stay home, and Mark walked into the bathroom and there she was. Dead in the bathtub, her blood spilled everywhere, the only trace left behind was a crumpled up sticky note stuck to the mirror saying 'We've Got AIDS'", Roger mumbled.
Roger felt tears forming in his ice blue eyes, but willed himself not to let them fall.
"And that is the point in which you could say I stopped living. I had nothing to live for. I was dying any day. My girlfriend was dead. Writing that one great song was the only thing I lived for", he lamented.
He couldn't control it anymore. Silent tears were falling from his eyes on to the petite dancer's thick hair. He let out a slow, quiet sob.
"Until now", he added.
"Roger…" she began, but was cut off by the feeling of his lips against hers.
The kiss started off slow and sad, filled with pain and heartache, but slowly grew more passionate and heated as Mimi leaned back so she was lying on the couch. Roger slowly moved himself on top of her and as he smiled, he felt a wave of happiness rush over him. He had forgotten how great it felt to smile.
A/N: Well, review please!