Mimi oneshot. Yay! My first fic outside of Mark or Roger. *gulps* Wish me luck. Thought of this while I was listening to Rehab by Amy Whinehouse and now it's stuck in my head.
*Sings* Try to make me go to rehab I say no, no, no. Haha random diva singing there.
Disclaimer: I don't own Mimi or Rent or Rehab :(.
The front door of the building slammed harshly, closing Roger out for good. I finally stopped resisiting and let the tears roll down my face as a choked sob escaped my throat. "Goodbye love..." I murmered helplessly and sank to the floor, hugging my knees into my chest as the sobs began to come in hurried gasps.
"Mimi!" came a frightened call to my left. I lifted my head slightly and glimpsed Benny standing there, a look of panic on his face. He rushed over to put his arm around my shoulder and I recolied in disgust, swatting away his hand and scooting farther.
"Please don't touch me. Understand I'm scared," I snapped at him. "I-I need to go away."
"I know a place, a clinc," Mark's strangled voice came from above, startling me. He had emerged from the apartment with tear tracks streaking his face and I knew he'd been crying. His hands were gripping the banister so hard that his knuckles had turned white, an even whiter shade than the rest of him. Mark saw the way I was looking at him and hurriedly wiped the tears from his cheeks because Mark never lets anyone see him cry, especially not over Roger.
I shivered again and Benny moved closer to me, attempting to place an arm me again. This time I let him. "A rehab?" he asked and Mark nodded.
They stared at me, awaiting my response. Behind Benny's chocolate brown eyes were genuine concern and maybe even compassion, two things I hadn't seen in them in a long time. And behind Mark's ocean blue ones were fear and pain, fear and pain over losing another person that he loves. I needed to do this, even if I didn't want to. If not for me, then for them and the others.
"Maybe..." I whispered, voice wavering slightly. I turned to Benny with a pleading expression. "Could you?"
He understood immediately, "I'll pay."
Mark shuffled back into the loft to get the phone number of the clinic, casting one last anxious look in my direction, and Benny helped me stand and walk to my door. "Get your things," he told me gently, leaning forward to press a kiss to my forehead. I cringed, but allowed him to, shivering again and pulling my sweater tighter around myself. Benny backed away and let me open the door to my apartment. Once inside I quickly closed the door behind me, keeping Benny out. He took the hint and made no move to follow me.
I turned and stared blankly at the spacious flat before me, resting against the front door and sliding down onto the floor again. I couldn't believe that Roger had left. How could he have deemed it acceptiable to just pack up and walk out on us, especially after losing Angel? This thought sent another wave of tears cascading down my face. It wasn't enough for me to lose the love of my life, I had to lose my best friend too.
I cried silently, surpressing another violent shiver, and began to sing to the darkness of the apartment. "Goodbye love, goodbye love, came to say goodbye love, goodbye. Just came to say, goodbye love, goodbye love, goodbye love..."
"Mimi!" the door rattled as Benny's fist pounded on it. "Are you okay in there?"
"Y-yeah..." I managed to stammmer. Standing slowly, I trudged over to the closet and grabbed a multi-colored, table cloth, duffle bag, that Angel had made me. I smiled, running my hands over the fabric. She deserved to come with me.
I began to pack my clothes, making only small, sluggish motions, trying to take up as much time as possible. Shirts; a green tanktop, a pink v-neck, a black fishnet cut, and a light brown sweater that looked huge next to my body. It had fit me perfectly a few weeks ago. I had worn it on that night we all went to the life after Mark got his first advance. Out of curiosity I pulled the sweater over my head and let it fall around me. It was about four or five sizes too big, a true testament to how much weight I'd lost in the past month. Holy shit...
Is Roger really jealous or afraid that Mimi's weak?
I stood as the sweater billowed around me, making me feel small and helpless. Weak, that was exactly the word to describe me. Roger had left me because I was too weak. Too weak to get through withdrawl, too weak to stop using, too weak to admit how much I really needed him. He had seen me getting weaker, not fighting as hard as I could, so he began to slip away. Roger had too much let down in his life, he didn't need me to add to the list. Desperately, I went to Benny, and that finalized it. I had single-handedly driven Roger away, shipped him out of my life and off to Santa Fe.
Mimi's gotten thin, Mimi's running out of time. Roger's running out the door.
The words of their conversation ran through my mind, playing over and over again, taunting me. Tears already starting to pool in my eyes, I pulled the sweater over my head and stuffed it quickly into my bag. As I lifted it something flew out of the pocket, hit me in the head, and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Gingerly, I turned from my duffle and bent down to inspect the object. It was a guitar pick, light blue and slender with a hole broken at the top so it could hang around my neck. Roger had given it to me for my birthday three months ago, when I'd turned twenty, so I could always have a piece of him with me. I picked it up and put it on, letting it fall against my heart, and stopped holding back the sobs building in my chest.
How could you let her go?
I was going to bring Roger with me too.
I took a long time packing my things, probably longer than nessicary. It was mechanical; grab, fold, place, grab, fold, place, again and again as I stared numbly at the wall.
"Mimi?" Another loud knock on the door. "Mimi, what the hell is taking so long?" Benny shouted.
I didn't bother answering, not that Benny cared. He came into the loft anyway, pushing the door open and proceding to take my duffle and shove the rest of the clothes inside hastily. I didn't want him here packing my things for me like I was some insolent child, but what could I do to stop him? Instead, I sank to the ground again and hugged my knees to my chest, shivering and crying silently.
Mark watched the scene quietly from the door, eyes hollow and afraid. It scared me. Mark was always the strong one, nothing could ever make him crack or hurt him enough to make him surrender. But this was different. If he had given up hope, then there was certainly none left for me.
"Meems?" Benny cooed, placing a cold hand on my shoulder. "It's time to go now."
I just nodded obediantly and let him help me stand. We walked out into the stairwell, and I turned back to blow a kiss to the apartment that had grown to be my home. Maybe, if I was lucky, I'd be back again soon.
Mark handed a small slip of paper to Benny. "The adress," he said. "They're all ready for her."
Benny only nodded.
The filmmaker turned to me next. He searched my face for a moment before pulling me into a tight embrace. "Make us proud Mimi," he whispered. "All of us." And I couldn't help but look up towards the sky.
Benny helped me down the stairs and outside. Once we were situated inside the car, he turned to me, letting his hand rest on my knee. "Mimi, sweetie, look at me."
"Jesus Christ, Benny. Don't do this now."
He looked taken aback, but withdrew his hand and started the engine. We drove the rest of the way in silence. I had nothing to say to him anyway.
When we pulled into the circular parking lot, Benny helped me out of the Range Rover, un-buckling my seatbelt for me and practically lifting me to the ground.
"Fuck you," I murmered, but I still made no attempt to stop him.
The automatic doors slid open, permitting us to enter the facility. The rather plump woman at the front desk smiled at us, too cheerily in my opinon.
"Hi there. Welcome to Shady Oaks Rehab Center." She surveyed me, smile turning into a tight frown. "Checking in, I assume?"
"Yes," Benny replied. "Mimi Marquez. Our friend called a while ago."
"Oh dear me. The one with the heroin addiction." Her tone was condecending and her eyes full of false sympathy. I hated this already. "We have your room all ready. If you would follow me please."
The receptionist led us down a chrome hallway that smelled like rubbing alcohol and medicine. A stick thin girl who looked to be about thirteen or fourteen was on the arm of a nurse on the opposite side of the hallway. She looked at me with an unreadible emotion in her face, wide-eyed and frail. A few more patients patients peered at us as we passed. Their faces were pale and grey with defeat, their eyes bloodshot and rimmed with bruises, and their skin stretched across their cheekbones. The unmistakeable track marks were visible on most of their arms. They looked like death. Then again, I probably did too.
We stopped at the last door on the left hand side. "This will be your room," receptionist told me. She unlocked the door and let us inside. It was nothing special. A small hospital bed in one corner next to a big rectangular window and a sink and toilet in the other. There was a closet on the wall opposite the bed.
Benny set down my bag and looked at the receptionist. "Can we have a moment?"
"By all means," she replied, and left the room.
"Mimi." Benny opened his arms to me, but I refused. I turned away from him and went to sit on the bed, staring idly out the window. I thought of Roger, wondering where he was and if he was thinking about me too.
"Meems..." Benny tried again, to no avail. I continued to igore him. There was nothing left that I wanted to tell him, no heartfelt goodbyes I had planned. He didn't deserve them. Finally he gave up and sighed, coming up behind me and planting a kiss on top of my head.
"Stay strong." And the door swung shut behind him.
That was it. I was stuck. Nothing else to do but curl up here and wait for hell to begin. I laid down the matress and pulled my knees tightly into my chest, closing my eyes. I was tired. It had been a stressful day.
"Goodbye love..." I said to the quiet of the room. "Hello disease."
I woke up in a paniced sweat. My pulse was racing madly and I couldn't stop shaking. The room was spinning. I needed a hit.
Then I remembered, I couldn't have one. I was locked up in rehab, alone is this white room with no smack anywhere near me. Fuck fuck fucking fuck.
I began to pace, trying to recall why I was here in the first place. Benny. That asshole had dumped me here. Left me alone and defenseless in rehab. How could he?
But no, it wasn't just him, but Roger. Roger. He had left me for good. Not just at a rehab, but he had moved all the way across the fucking country. All the way to Santa Fe.
I couldn't seem to bring myself to care about that at the moment though. My thoughts were becoming muddled, all sqaushed together and not making any sense. It felt like my entire body was on fire. It burned so intesely, all the pain and fear of the past twenty-four hours seemed to be tearing a hole right through me. Crying out in pain, I sank to my knees. I knew what would make the pain go away, just one more needle. Just one more hit and this would all go away. Just one more hit and I would be done forever.
Desperately, I scrambled to my feet and hurled my body against the door. Fumbling with the handle, I discovered it was locked.
"Fuck!" I yelled, banging my fists on the door. "Let me out! God dammit! Just one more hit! Please! Just one more!"
No one answered. Of course they didn't, they were probably used to this. Night after night of some hopeless junkie crying out for one more hit. They weren't going to let me out anyway.
I shrieked in frustration. I had to get out of here. Whirling around, I searched the room for some possible way to escape. Then it hit me, the window.
I ran across the room as fast as I could. Using all my strength, I grasped the bottom of the frame and pulled upwards. To my delight, it slid open easily, exposing me to the cool night breeze. Cackling triumphantly, I went back over to my duffle and pulled out my leopard skin jacket.
"Fucking idiots," I laughed, as I slipped it on. "Put the junkie on the first floor and leave the window unlocked. Completely fucking brilliant of you."
I crossed back to the window and pushed the mesh screen outwards, letting it fall to the ground. One foot was out when something moved inside my shirt, startling me. I reached down into it and pulled out the object. It was Roger's necklace. I paused in the window for a moment, holding the guitar pick in the moonlight.
Angel's voice rang through my head. 'Mimi chica, don't do this. You're stronger than those needles. You don't need them, you know that. Mimi stay, if not for me then for Roger.'
"Yeah, because Roger's been so good about staying around for me," I snarled. I could see Angel's face fall, full of shame and dissapointment. But I didn't care. All I could think about was finding my dealer and ending this nightmare once and for all.
"Good riddence." I didn't need this place, or Angel, or Roger for that matter. I could do this on my own. I pulled the guitar pick from around my neck, snapping the chain and throwing it onto the ground, as I threw my body out of the open window and raced off into the darkness.
Ahhhhh! I'm finished! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sorry if that last part felt a little rushed. I was trying to make it feel like Mimi was dying for a hit and that all she could focus on was getting out of there. She really wouldn't have stopped for anything and I was just trying to make it realistic. :P R&R if you please.