Will You Light My Candle?
If you didn't read the summary, or see what I was thinking about on my profile, I thought of this when listening to the hot Anthony Rapp singing "Halloween." I thought "what if Mimi really didn't knock on Roger's door?" and thus this began. I'm a huge what if person, so it's no surprise I did this.
Chapter 1: Sexy and Beautiful
It was Christmas Eve, around ten PM, and Mimi Marquez sat huddled in her loft she shared with her best friend Angel. Angel was originally trying to make money on the streets with her bucket playing but she came back with a handsome black man and left in her hot Santa drag outfit. Oh well she thought its Christmas Eve, she doesn't need to work tonight. It has been a while since she found a guy who was okay with her cross dressing. I just wished it wasn't so cold in here. She shivered. This is what I get for leaving her parent's at sixteen. And what was worse that she was running low on her drugs and all the matches were out—she couldn't light the single candle they owned.
Mimi walked over to the window and out into the fire escape, glancing down at the glowing light of the Cat Scratch Club—where she worked as an exotic dancer but finally got a break for the holiday—and the moon. She sighed, wishing that someone could see her hair in the moonlight, the only time she felt like she was truly absolutely beautiful. It might seem weird to someone who didn't know her that she was so insecure—just last week at the club a guy slapped ass and said it was the best below Fourteenth Street. Yes, she might find herself sexy, but beautiful was different. Beautiful was timeless. Sex appeal died with age.
The nineteen year old stared at her hand holding her candle. She pushed up the sleeve of her robe. Fuck. Great. Shit. The fucking cuffs dug into my wrist! Now I look like a huge slut! She closed her eyes and breathed in and out. Calm down…put some lotion on…that normally helps. Mimi dragged herself from the fire escape to her small, pathetic room. Sitting on cold sheets and applying the lotion, praying for the first time in months that they would go away. She stopped in her tracks when she remembered why she prayed last time.
—
"We'll mail you the results back, Miss Marquez." Dr. Finch said (had to fit in my Running With Scissors moment…and I guess To Kill a Mockingbird, too.)
"Do you mind if I wait in here for a moment?" Mimi asked when he opened the door.
"Sure. I know it can be a hard situation to think of."
"Thank you, Doctor." Dr. Finch left and she finally let the tears that were welling in her eyes go. Why didn't I listen to my parents? Why did I get into drugs when I knew they could ruin my whole life? Why? FUCK! And now I'll probably die within a week with all the germs in the dirty poles at the Cat Scratch!
Before realizing what she was doing she fell onto the floor. She got on her knees and performed an old prayer she was taught as a young girl. She did the cross along her upper body and put her hands together. "Dear merciful God, please let this be false! This can't happen! Please! I'll quit the Cat Scratch, go back to my parents…even become a nun! Please don't let this happen!" She did the cross again and was about to pray again when Dr. Finch entered with another patient. She wiped her tears and ran crying out of the place. Mimi hoped she never had to see that place again.
Mimi was running as fast as she could in her high heels when she fell in the hall between the office and the waiting room. Tears came out even faster than she thought possible. The patient Dr. Finch was meeting with ran to her. "I'm guessing you just got tested, right?" After Mimi managed a nod the patient handed a card to her. "If you do have it or even if you don't, come here some night. Bring a friend. I don't have it, but one of my closest friends does and it helped both him and me cope. It's a great program." Mimi thanked her and waved goodbye feeling just a tiny, tiny bit of hope, not knowing if it was from the prayer or from the life support card.
—
Mimi sighed and put the memory behind her. It was in the past, where it was supposed to be. With a sudden burst of energy she decided that there was no point of waiting around for Mr. Right. It's not like I'll just randomly knock on his door some night! That thought stayed in her mind when she got dressed. She was going out tonight…but where? A memory of Angel and the man—Collins, she thought—talking about going to life support, then the "Over the Moon" protest and then to the Life Café. Checking the time, she decided to head over the lot near the building where the protest was taking place…but not before grabbing her AZT.
—
What do you think? I guess its okay for something I wrote in about half an hour.
Review! Only constructive or positive! No need to call me the c-word, like some idiot did once.
Love,
Dave the L's Gal
P.S. Sorry…I can't think of anything creative to say for the ending author's note…I normally say random shit but it's 9:08 and I'm listening to Wicked…kind of distracted (already listened to the OBCR of Rent today, too.)