My Eyes

a/n: ATTENTION: Paris Hilton just made it illegal to weigh over 108 lbs. Oh, and I don't own this.

Chapter one: We're Not Gonna Pay

"Man, that was some crazy shit," I said, walking down the street with Angel. We had just come back from this group, Life Support, that he had taken me to. "Life Support's a group of people coping with life. You don't have to stay too long," he had told me.

"You didn't like it?" he asked.

"Yeah…" I said, hesitantly. "It was just… I don't know. All that stuff about 'no day but today'. Just weird."
"Yeah, well, maybe you'll use it some day." I snorted.

"Yeah, maybe." I see you've delved into the world of men's clothing," I joked, referring to his pants.

"Meh. Skirts are definitely more comfortable. But I must admit, these shoes are much easier to walk in," he smiled.

"Do you think you'll stick with it?"

"Nah. I can feel the arch in my feet falling. God gave me heels for a reason."

"Okay, but I've gotta go. Mami will be calling, because tomorrow's Christmas, and I have to figure out a new job to tell her about." Angel laughed.

"There's nothing wrong with dancing." I raised an eyebrow. "Ok, its exotic dancing, but so what?" We laughed, and I tapped on his pickle tub. Excuse me, his drum.

"Bye, baby," I called. Walking to my apartment, I hummed a tune, bouncing a little. It was a good day. Looking around, I saw some homeless guy trying to wash some yuppie's window, and al most got ran over. Instinct told me to help him, common sense told me not to be potentially mugged. Suddenly, a bike swerved right in front of me, some blonde geek on it.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Sorry!" the guy called back. I frowned, and stepped into the building, an unhappy sight greeting me at the door. EVICTION NOTICE. The day just got a whole lot better. Tearing the paper from my door, I looked for a lighter, grabbed a pack of cigarettes, and went out onto my, ahem, balcony.

It seemed the others in my building had the same idea. I torched the notice and shouted, "I'm not gonna pay last year's rent!" The atmosphere was wild, and crazy, and heated. I lived for places like this. I decided to stay on the fire escape, have a smoke, and watch the angry squatters chant: "We're not gonna pay last year's rent, this year's rent, next year's rent! Rent, rent, rent, rent, rent! We're not gonna pay rent!" I jumped away as a load of fire fell from the floor above. One page fell onto my fire escape: "Acoustic sessions – Roger Davis," with some platinum blonde guy on it. I looked up to yell at the dumbasses that had thrown out all the fire, and stopped. There was the geek on the bike! Someone else stood next to him, but I couldn't see.

"Hey, Benny, that attitude toward the homeless is exactly what Maureen is protesting!" he shouted, looking resentful. I looked down, and there was the bastard who was still making me pay rent after we had made that "deal".

"Maureen is protesting losing her performance space. Not my attitude. Come down here, I want to talk to you." The one on the bike moved away, revealing his friend. Damn, the boy was fine. He had dirty blonde hair, and a nice face. I smiled winningly, hoping to catch his attention. He looked at me for a minute, and then looked away. I frowned. Not how I had wanted that to go. My mother had always said I had an air of determination about me, and I supposed she was right. I was going to get that guy. Life was too short to just let things go, especially now. I looked over at the street below and saw Benny laughing uproariously at something the one in glasses had said. I scowled, and went back inside.

Pacing, I set to work thinking of a clever way to introduce myself. I definitely couldn't just walk up there and be all, "Hi, I'm Mimi Marquez. I think you're hot, we should definitely fuck sometime." Well, he'd certainly remember me. Flopping onto the cold floor, my eyes wandered to a candle stub lying on my window sill. A mischievous smile erupted onto my face. Sure, I had a lighter to burn it with, but he didn't know that. Snatching it up, and my stash (God knew I didn't want anybody stealing that. The chronic shit was expensive.), I walked purposefully out my door and up the stairs. My face fell when I saw him go up to the roof with his guitar, but I found a shadowy place and plopped onto the stairs. All there was to do now was wait.

a/n: I'm not usually one to beg for reviews, but they definitely inspire me to go faster. HINT HINT, NOD NOD.