(A/N: I can't finish one project and I start another. Brilliant.

This is my first attempt at angst, rated T for later chapters .. hope you enjoy!)

Love - Mimi

Mimi needed love.

Ironically, it was the one thing she never seemed to have. Living in her broken home, with the never-ending, taunting, vicious cycle – beer, beating, and sleep, rinse and repeat – there no love there. Tossing and turning in her closet of a room, awaiting the nightmarish moment that he would enter, his hot breath on her neck, touching her with his dirty hands – even at a young age, she knew it wasn't love.

Dance came close to love. She would stand perfectly still in the middle of the empty studio, moonlight illuminating her hair in the mirrors. Then, her own music, her personal music, the music of her mind would start up, and she would be off, twisting and spinning until it reached its final chord of discordant beauty. The feeling of the music wrapping around her, coursing through her, becoming her … that sense of oneness was enough to keep her going for a long while.

But at fifteen, Mimi had enough. She hitchhiked from Mexico to New York City, the fertile ground of opportunity, success, and possibly … love?

The Man gave her what she thought was love. Really, it was just lust, faceless want, sex-driven need. But she believed – she made herself believe - that he loved her, truly loved her. For the first time in her life, she felt important … for the first time in her life, she had a small flicker of hope, a candle bringing warmth to the inky dark. But at the moment the cool, silky needle touched her skin, her life went dark once more.

"You'll love it," he had purred persuasively, reassuringly. She didn't believe him – she couldn't love anything more than him – but in the end, he was right.

Because the drugs were love. The drugs were like dance on steroids: they sent her sailing to Cloud Nine, flying and twisting and spinning and not knowing which way was up – which eventually caused her to fall for them. They started up a volatile, passionate, sensational affair; Mimi was genuinely happy when she was with them, not so much addicted to the substance as to that powerful surge of warmth, the missing puzzle piece in her already broken life. And, like a starving man faced with a steak dinner, Mimi would do anything – anything – to feel the love that she needed.

Enter The Catscratch Club.

She hated it. All those men, leering at her, their pupils dilated with passion, practically salivating as she gyrated her body to the pounding rhythm. That wasn't love. But it brought her the drugs, and she would tolerate it.

Angel really kept her going during that period. The drag queen offered real, strong love – it made Mimi feel important, and needed. She had a friend, a sister, someone she could always count on to be there – it was a relationship that both of them desperately needed. But Angel's love was only sisterly, of course … Mimi needed passion, needed a soulmate.

Then there was Benny, and then there was Roger.

Mimi believed that, on some level, Benny did love her. He certainly told her enough, and he let her live in the building for free … but he had a wife, and the whole thing dissolved rather quickly. She didn't love him, at least not consciously. She knew he was an ass, yuppie scum … but his money gave her the real love, and she would do what it took to get it.

Roger was a whole other story. From the moment she had seen his ruggedly handsome features illuminated by the light of her candle, she knew he was different. When she was around Roger, she didn't need the drugs. Roger made her happy in a way that the drugs never could … it was just as intense, but had a softer, warmer feel to it – less like a neon billboard and more like the moon in the dead of night. That glow was so warm for the first few days that she didn't need the drugs at all. But he was difficult – while they were together, he gave her just enough to keep her going, but pulled back every time she came too close. He turned her away, didn't trust her – didn't love her. And so she went back to the one thing she could always trust, that would never break her heart … and it wasn't the same anymore. Because she was addicted to a new substance … Roger.

When the two people who had ever made her feel important left – Roger and Angel – Mimi turned back to Benny. It was a poor substitute, like water for vodka … Benny told her he loved her, but her heart just wasn't into it. The whole thing was hollow, an attempt to fill up a bucket with a whole. No one could ever substitute.

"I should tell you, I should tell you, I have always loved you," he whispered.

Despite everything, Mimi smiled weakly. That's what she needed to hear.

Fin

(A/N: That was intense .. basically the only way I can describe it .. look out for Roger's chappie next!)