This is a Collins/April story, starting from when they meet at age seven to April's suicide. I've always been interested in Collins, and wanted to get more into his character, since I haven't read many fics that do that. The April piece came into play when I was listening to my soundtrack, and realized that Collins left for MIT right around when April killed herself. It's still a work in progress, so feedback would be especially helpful. Not to mention, it makes me happy.
This is just the prologue. I'll have the first chapter up shortly.
Actual Reality
By Dulcey
They think I know things they don't. They assume I'm always even-tempered and put together, and rely on me to patch things up when they fall apart. Good ol' Tom Collins, mentor, shrink, and friend all rolled into one.
What they don't know is that underneath that assuring facade, I'm as scared as they are, even more. Some of it may be obvious--after all, I've had HIV twice as long as Mimi, and three times as long as Roger. I've caught them sneaking glances at me, contemplating their and my own intertwined fates. I've had the virus the longest, and I'm supposed to be through everything they're facing now. I can't be afraid anymore, at least, not around them. I have to be accepting and reassuring, helping my friends through issues I haven't had the courage to face myself.
They wouldn't like me as well if they knew the truth. I'm no saint--in reality, I've fucked up just as much as anyone, if not more. Everyone is entitled to a number of screwups, I believe. After all, we're only human. But not ones like I've made. Not ones that ruin the lives of innocent people.
Roger's the one I feel worst about. He's been consumed with guilt ever since April died. He thinks it was his fault, that he got the virus from those syringes of heroin he used to pass around with his friends at parties. And April. God, April, I'm so sorry.
Here's something you may not know about me. I'm bisexual. Not gay. I've mostly been with boys, but there have been a few women in my life as well. That may not seem important now, but if I hadn't been that way, things wouldn't have turned out like they had. Here's something else about me. I met Roger, and Mark, and Benny when I was at Columbia, after I'd escaped the South Side of Chicago in pursuit of a better life. And I'd brought my best friend with me, a young Hispanic girl named April Morales who I'd known since I was seven.
This is for April.