Happily Ever After

Disclaimer: Rent's not mine. It's not going to be mine any time soon.
-

Roger never said "I love you."

It hadn't really bothered Mimi at the time. She hadn't said it either. But God, she had felt it. She had been convinced Roger felt it too and was just waiting for the right time. Maybe, she told herself, he was just having trouble finding the words. The man had been working on the same song since before they met, after all.

It didn't matter, though. She'd heard "I love you" before. She'd also been dumped the day after she had sex with the man who was supposedly totally in love with her. Roger was different. He made her feel loved; he wasn't some random guy she had met in a bar who was using words to try to get her clothes off. No, he was a man who made her heart flutter when he spoke to her. He was a man who seemed to think she was special.

Then he told her it was over. It shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did—they had been fighting almost constantly for weeks. He wanted her to quit heroin. She wouldn't. She wanted him to let her do what she wanted. He wouldn't. Despite that, perhaps naively, she had believed everything would work out between them.

Because he loved her.

Stupid, stupid Mimi.

She spent the days following the break-up fantasizing about the grand gesture he would make to get her back. When he did, she would hesitate a moment so she wouldn't appear desperate. But then Roger would say the words she had secretly wanted to hear all along and she would fall into his arms. It would finally be her perfect, fairy tale ending.

Nearly two weeks after, she finally lost hope. Mimi dragged herself to work and did her make-up and hair. Just before she was supposed to go onstage one of the older dancers tapped her shoulder and smirked, informing her that there was a guy looking for her.

She smiled triumphantly. She knew it.

All thoughts of going onstage abandoned, Mimi ran through the dressing room, stopping only to check her reflection in the mirror. Her make-up was caked on too thickly and her hair was too wild. She winced and hoped Roger wouldn't mind, because there was nothing she could do quickly to change how she looked. Besides, the make-up would take forever to reapply. She nearly sprinted through the rest of the room, somehow managing not to trip in her heels. And finally, she saw him.

Not Roger.

"…Mark?"

Mark, whose eyes had been firmly glued to the ceiling, cleared his throat. "Hi. I remembered Roger mentioning you work Thursdays."

Mimi nodded slowly. "I do." She stared at Mark for several moments, waiting for him to speak before she prompted, "Did you need something? I mean, it's great to see you, but I'm about to go on."

"I… uh…"

Her eyes widened. "Oh my God, is Roger okay?"

"No!" Mark shouted. Mimi's eyes widened even more and Mark shook his head vigorously as he realized what he had said. "I mean, yes. Yes, Roger's fine. Physically, at least. That's not why I'm here."

She waited again for him to tell her what he wanted to tell her. When he didn't say anything, she sighed. "Look, Mark, I'm sorry, but I don't have time for this. Why don't you just come downstairs later and we'll talk." She turned to walk away.

"Roger's leaving!" Mark finally blurted out. Mimi stopped walking abruptly and spun back around.

"What?" she whispered.

"Roger's leaving town."

"When?"

"Halloween." Mimi inhaled sharply. That was in four days. "He wants to say goodbye to Angel before he goes."

"Santa Fe?" she squeaked out. It was all he used to talk about.

Surprised, Mark nodded. "Yeah. He bought a car."

"How?"

"He sold…" He trailed off, gesturing wildly in an attempt to finish his sentence.

No. "His guitar." Mark nodded again. "He really sold his guitar?" Roger's guitar was practically an extension of his arm, from what Mimi could tell. He must have been desperate to get away if he would resort to selling it. "Mark… is Roger leaving because of me?"

She took Mark's lack of answer as a yes, and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. He noticed and, assuming that she was about to cry, placed a comforting hand on her arm. "He… Roger's leaving because of Roger."

"I don't understand."

Suddenly, Mark seemed even more uncomfortable. "He's never been good at things like this. Not as long as I've known him."

"Things like what?"

"Pain."

"And you're just letting him run? You're not going to try and stop—"

Mark pulled his hand away from Mimi's arm like he had burned it, snapping, "Of course I tried to stop him! You think I would be here telling you he was going if I hadn't tried to get him to stay? I mean…" He shrugged, and unexpectedly all the anger drained from his expression and voice. In fact, Mimi couldn't identify a single emotion in his next words. "He's my best friend. I don't want him to go."

"I… I'm so sorry, Mark."

"I told you. It's not your fault."

"But I'm sure I didn't help."

"No, no you definitely didn't. But," he insisted when he saw her expression, "it's over now. You shouldn't feel guilty." Mark waited several seconds for her to respond, and, when it became clear that she wouldn't, gently wished her luck on stage and left.

She stood still awkwardly for what seemed for hours, but was in reality little more than a minute. A small part of her felt that its heart had been ripped out, but that small part was overwhelmed by an intense feeling of emptiness. She felt like she was supposed to be crying, because she was sad, wasn't she? Mark's words stuck in her head. You shouldn't feel guilty.

She didn't feel guilty. She couldn't. She calmly walked back through the dressing room, glancing at her make-up casually as she passed the mirror. None of it had run.

The older dancer from before suggestively asked what that had been about; Mimi shrugged her off, gesturing in the direction of the stage. She would miss her cue if she didn't, she insisted. As she walked through the curtain that separated backstage from where the audience could see, she smiled because she had to. She threw off her robe did a small twirl, trying to prove how happy and sexy she was. A man with gray hair and a business suit waved a dollar bill and she snatched it, giving him a wink as she did so.

Silently in her head, she confirmed what she had really always known. She wasn't a princess; Prince Charming wasn't going to come sweep her off her feet. She was a stripper, and Roger was going to Santa Fe.
-

At the end of her shift, Mimi sat and stared at herself intently in her mirror. She slowly washed off the makeup that caked her cheeks, wondering why it seemed so difficult to get off tonight. The older dancer, who she finally remembered was named Mona, walked up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder. Mimi opened her mouth to tell Mona that she really wasn't in the mood to talk about what Mark had told her but was cut off.

"Well, aren't we popular tonight?" Mona asked.

Mimi frowned. "What?"

Glancing in Mimi's mirror and pressing down on her hair in an attempt make it lie flat, Mona said, "Another guy is here to see you." She stopped messing with her hair and gave Mimi a smile. "This one seems even more desperate to see you."

"I…" She wasn't going to trick herself into thinking this was Roger. She wasn't stupid enough to set herself up for that kind of disappointment twice in one night. But then again, who else would want to see her? She went through options in her mind but stopped herself and shook her head. "Tell him I don't want to see him."

"I don't think that's going to work, sweetheart."

She sighed. "Fine. Tell him to come here."

Mona gave a small shrug as if to say 'if you say so' and walked off. Moments later, an all too familiar man walked through her dressing room and stood behind her. "Hello, Mimi."

Mimi couldn't keep the shock or contempt out of her voice. "Benny. What are you doing here?"

"I heard about Angel. I wanted to make sure you were all right."

Angel. The funeral was planned for Halloween, Angel's favorite holiday… Selfishly, her death had been pushed to the back of Mimi's mind after her break up. She knew that made her an awful person, since she had considered Angel one of her closest friends- but it was all so much. Collins was heartbroken enough for them all and Mimi had never been very good at losing people that were close to her. But seeing Benny, of all people, so concerned made her feel so guilty that the pain she'd been pushing down suddenly surfaced. She swallowed. "I'm fine, Benny. So I guess you can just go." She returned to scrubbing the make-up off her face and Benny placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She jumped.

"I know this has to be hard on you." Mimi really wanted to swear at him and tell him to leave her alone, which she would have done any other night, but he was being so nice and making her feel so comforted that she didn't even make him move his hand. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me, okay?"

She stayed silent, considering his words. His hand felt so warm against her bare shoulder and her head suddenly hurt so badly. Maybe…

Ignoring her thoughts of "What the hell are you doing?" and "Think, Marquez!" Mimi placed her hand over Benny's softly. Confused, he glanced down at their hands then met her eyes in the mirror.

"Could you maybe walk me home?" she asked, bending her fingers so they were linked with his. "It's getting pretty late. You know how this neighborhood sometimes gets at night."

Benny was surprised. "Won't Roger get pissed? He hates me."

Ignoring the sting of his words, Mimi gripped his hand more tightly. "He doesn't care what I do." Still unsure, Benny agreed and Mimi smiled "Thank you. Just give me a minute to get this shit off my face."

"Of course." He removed his hand from her shoulder and walked over to the door. Mimi finally finished ridding her face of makeup. She stared at her reflection, refusing to feel guilty about what she planned to do.

Benny was waiting for her. She smiled at him again and grabbed her jacket before they both stepped into the brisk October air.

"Are you sure Roger's not going to be mad?" Benny asked again, walking over a foot behind her.

She sighed and stopped, turning to face Benny as he caught up with her. "Roger dumped me. I highly doubt he gives a fuck."

"Oh. Are you—"

"I'm absolutely fine." She took a deep breath. "Is Muffy going to be missing you?"

Benny stared at her, and she panicked, wondering if he was going to reject her. She didn't think she could take that tonight.

"No," he finally answered. Relief coursed through her. "I don't think so."

She gave him a seductive smirk. "I'm glad to hear it."
-

The first thing Mimi felt in the morning was cold. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know that the bed next to her was empty. She opened them anyway, wincing as her eyes were greeted by harsh sunlight. Sitting up, she glanced around the room, noticing her clothes thrown across her bedroom floor. It was only then that she remembered that she was naked, and she instinctively pulled her blanket up around her torso.

On the nightstand, she found a note and a twenty dollar bill. She winced and reached for the note. Why did she feel hung over? She hadn't touched a drink in weeks. The note was fairly short and scribbled in Benny's handwriting on the back of a receipt. How thoughtful, she thought bitterly.

Mimi—

I figured I better get home before Allison wakes up and wonders where I am. I don't want to have to think up a story about where I was all night. I checked your kitchen and it was empty, so I'm leaving money for you to buy some food. You need to eat, Mimi.

—Benny.

P.S. I was serious last night. You need anything, give me a call.

He had written a number at the bottom, which she was positive wasn't his home phone. She reread the note and laughed. "Food" was underlined—Benny knew her well enough to know that she had no plans to actually spend the money on something to eat. She reached for the twenty and folded it. She tried to tell herself that Benny was just concerned about her and the money was a loan from a friend, but she couldn't get away from the thought that he had paid her for sex. She had never felt more like a whore in her life.

That on top of everything else—Roger, Angel, the pounding headache that she finally realized was withdrawal—was too much. Mimi, for the first time since it had all began, burst into tears.