Disclaimer: Characters created by Jonathon Larson, not me. I don't know who actually owns them now, but I assure you it isn't me.
"It is not that some people have willpower and some don't. It's that some people are ready to change and others are not." ~James Gordon, M.D.
"Right Now"
By Annie
Part One – Some
You don't really know when it happened, when caring for him crossed the line between best friend and something more. You just know that it did, that one day you heard his compulsive guitar tuning and smiled and knew it was love.
You vaguely remember being jealous of Mimi, though you didn't recognize it at the time. You just look back on footage, stuff not even remotely useful to any movie anywhere, and think how obvious you were. Exactly how much film could you waste on him anyway?
The happiest time for you during the Mimi period was the few weeks between his return from Santa Fe and Christmas Eve, when she almost died. He was happy, despite his fruitless search for Mimi, and spent huge amounts of time making sure you knew he hadn't meant the things he'd said and that he'd missed you more than anything. You're pretty sure he was more upset over calling you a failure than running out on his girlfriend at his friend's funeral. That, you thought, was something.
The Age of Mimi didn't last much longer than that, anyway. After a brief period in which she and he were inseparable, conjoined at the mouth (most unpleasant for you to watch), she fell into old habits. She couldn't—wouldn't—give up smack and just had to go out every night she wasn't working. Eventually, she drifted away from the people who cared about her and there was nothing any of you could do to stop her. Benny was even forced to evict her, not from lack of rent, but because he discovered drug deals were being made in the building and wouldn't stand for it. Your musician pitched a fit after that, screaming and yelling and even getting in a good punch before you stepped between them. He understood, though, and you even got him to apologize to Benny.
That was a hard time for him, for you both, and you did your best to be the best friend. You gave him an ear to talk to and a hand to squeeze. You knew you were the only person in New York City to have seen him cry over anything and you didn't take that lightly.
You loved him and you thought that it was something special because it wasn't like any love you'd ever felt before. Not Nanette Himmelfarb or your 11th grade English teacher or even the girl who kicked sand in your face when you were six. Even Maureen, who you really had loved despite most people deeming it childish infatuation. No, your love for Maureen had been a weird, fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach, and there were still moments where she would laugh or say something and you'd be reminded of exactly why you'd fallen for her in the first place.
It only served to fuel your love for him, though. To fuel the warm sense of calm that spread through your body whenever he was near, because that was Maureen and this was so much more. You'd be okay and he'd be okay, just so long as you had each other. And you would because he'd promised he'd never leave you again after that fateful voyage out west and you believed him, and because you certainly weren't going anywhere unless he was right there next to you. That's just how the two of you worked. Together, taking care of each other right to the end.
Maybe one day you'd both actually leave this dirty city for greener pastures. Or maybe you'd stay in your loft together until the end of time. Right now you didn't really care because he was sitting across from you, grinning at you and still compulsively tuning and all you knew at that moment is that you loved him and you didn't care when it had happened, just that it did.