Disclaimer: No, I don't own Rent….I lease. (Bad pun that everyone makes, I know, but I had to. At least I changed it a bit.) Gaby, though, is a character of my own design.

Synopsis: Ever since Maureen, Mark has been alone. With the introduction of Mimi's old friend, could that change? Rated K+ for a handful of cursing and a mild sex scene later on…

A squeal rang around the halogen lights followed by a dull thud. Mimi was nearly tackled to the ground before she could figure out who- or what- had uttered the noise.

"Mimi!"

Of course, Mimi thought. Who else but Gaby? One of the few girls she was fond of at the Catscratch, the leather and lace-clad girl that stood before her nearly bounced from joy. She and Gaby had gotten close over the hardships of being a young girl thriving in bohemia. The two were quite a sight on stage.

"Where the hell have you been?" Gaby questioned with a look of relief and maternal scolding.

What a loaded question.

"I was…sick. You know," Mimi mused. Gaby simply nodded and dragged her friend to the mirror claimed by them both. "But I'm back."

"That's good. We were all getting worried." A smile crept over Gaby's face and she shook her head. "That's a lie. I was worried. Everyone else has been swimming in your abandoned cash."

The two laughed a little. Mimi, having just arrived, began to apply her mask of cosmetics while her friend only added a touch of glitter here and a little lip-gloss there. Both were relieved to get back to the routine they knew.

"So," Mimi started, adding an oil slick of black liquid liner along the curvature of her eyes, "Roger's back from Santa Fe."

"You're with him again, I'm assuming?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Well," Gaby grinned, "would you really be talking about him otherwise?"

Mimi looked at her friend with a warm smile. Gaby had a way of making an uncanny amount of sense all of the time. It was lucky for Mimi; she'd constantly be in a lot more trouble if it weren't for Gaby's clear head.

"How are…" Gaby's sentence was cut off by a dainty sneeze and a cloud of pink, shimmery power. "…things now?" she asked, dusting the rose dust off her skirt and table and blushing profusely.

"I don't really know. Great, I guess. It's still early. He did write me a song though."

"A song?" Her dusting stopped abruptly.

"Mmhm." It was all Mimi could muster. As much as she loved it, it was painful to remember the circumstances in which she'd heard it.

"I don't trust him. When do I get to meet him?" Gaby's eyes were expressionless and her lips were pursed. She looked crossed between confused and disapproving. It was less than appealing.

"I don't know… I guess it hadn't occurred to me for you two to meet." Gaby's attempt at hiding her hurt caught Mimi's eye but had flickered away as quickly as it had developed. Gaby didn't quite let the more dramatic of emotions get to her.

"What the hell are you bitches doing back here!" screamed a stage manager for the club. His head looked severed as it poked out of the doorway. "GET ON STAGE!"

Both girls looked at each other and held back grins.

"Soon. I promise. You'll meet everyone."

Gaby only smiled in return as she quickly laced the buckle of her stilettos with nimble fingers.

"Speeeeaaaaaaaaaak."

"Roger? Mark? Don't bother screening. It's me, Mimi. I'm at the Catscratch now and I'll be here for a bit longer. Roger, give me a call, okay? I've got a…a question for you."

Beep.

Roger flung the heavy loft door shut just as Mimi hung up. He threw up one arm in desperation and sauntered over to the phone. He held his guitar by its neck in one hand and the pathetic remnants of a sandwich in the other. His fingers flew over the buttons, punching in the club's number by memory. The phone was grasped between his broad shoulder and ear as the dial tone buzzed.

"Hey baby. Catscratch club, Mimi speaking. How can I help you?" Mimi cooed. The lust laced in her voice made Roger's fists clench. It was painful reminder of what exactly his girlfriend did for a living. He tried constantly to forget that the love of his life was groped nightly by the sleaze of Alphabet City.

"Mimi, it's Roger."

Her voice brightened and a smile replaced the sexual ring of her voice. "Roger! There you are! Were you by the phone?"

"No, no. I just walked in the door. I'd been out putting up posters for Maureen's next show. And," he stared at the slimy remnants on the counter, "getting dinner. Have you started work yet?"

"Nah. I just got here too. I'm getting dressed."

"Getting dressed is always good."

Silence.

"Apparently I'm not funny today," Roger bantered.

"Are you ever?"

Silence again.

"Alright Mimi, out with it."

Roger could clearly picture the expression on Mimi's face and her little movements: she would furrow her brow slightly, look to both of her sides, glance down over the receiver and her eyes would glaze over starring at her shoes. It was as though a movie was whirring behind his eyes.

"With what?"

"Mimi. Come on now."

"I…" The remainder of her breath for the sentence hissed into the receiver and she shuffled her words around in her head. "You're having dinner tomorrow."

"Actually, that depends on whether I have the money, but I was intending on eating."

"No, I mean, I'm coming over…and so is a friend of mine."

Roger pulled the phone away from his head and looked at it curiously. No sound came from the speaker so he brought it back to his ear and laughed slightly. "Is that all? Seriously? Is she an axe murderer? Fugitive? Ex-boyfriend? …. Ex-girlfriend?" he added jokingly, trying to ignore the worried feeling in his stomach.

"No! Her name's Gaby. She's from the club."

A sigh of release rushed through his lips and he smiled. "Alright, that's fine! We might not be eating more than barbeque chips and powered mashed potatoes, but we'll certainly eat."

"Good. So, how was your-"

"GET ON STAGE!" A gruff voice bounced from the walls into the receiver.

"Sorry Roger, I have to run. I'll see you tomorrow?" Her words were rushed.

"Of course."

"Great. Don't exclude anyone. I don't care who comes."

"Okay. I'll see who'll be around."

"You're amazing Roger. I've got to run…"

"Mimi?"

There was quiet on the other end for a moment. "Yes?"

"I love you."

The breath of a smile was heard before a murmured reply and a click.

"Damn Mimi. What's the problem with your friend? It sounds like she's some horrible person. How exactly am I supposed to feed…anyone? Including me? Oh well. God knows I'd do anything for her. Procuring food will be kinda impossible," he mused, "but I'll figure it out." Roger reached a hand behind his neck and retreated to the couch.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Shit!" Roger exclaimed, jumping off the couch and rushing to the phone.

"Speeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak."

"Damn it," he mumbled.

"Hey Rog, it's Mark. Don't worry about picking up if you're there. Just want to let you know that my footage of the college riots made it to Buzzline. I know, I know, it's horrible, but I'm getting used to actually having money. It's a stepping ladder to the major networks. Alexi is so convincing. She heard that my film was finished and… I'm getting off track. Just wanted to let you know I'll buy dinner tonight to celebrate…"

"Mark!" Roger said, snatching the phone up.

"Hey there! You heard me, then?"

"Yeah. How about we postpone that dinner until, say, tomorrow?"