A/N: I don't know, this has been an idea that has been looming at the back of my mind for some time, actually. I just didn't know how to go about it, really. Also, it was inspired by the song called "Downfall" by Matchbox 20. Not the entire song, but one part of it. Also, this story containts reference to drug abuse and character death. :0 Just a warning.
Disclaimer: I do not own RENT. Nor do I own the song. .. OO; But I do own this pink paper heart! -waves it-
And I'll be your downfall.
April Erickson hadn't always been a 'bad girl'. Infact, she hadn't even experimented with drugs until she had went away from her small home town in Texas to study design at a small college in New York. She had always been the perfect angel in the eyes of her family, teachers, and peers. She wasn't a soft-spoken child, nor was she reserved. She could be loud just like any child and she could step in the spot light and dance or sing her heart out, the hundreds of eyes watching her only encouraging her on. She received decent grades in grade school, junior high, and in high school. April was a happy and content A/B honor roll student that was beyond excited when she was told that she had been awarded a scholarship for winning an evening gown design contest and would be able to attend a college in New York free of charge.
April had a normal and happy life back in Texas, though she was more than willing to drop everything she had in a heartbeat to pack her things and head to the Big Apple. She would be leaving behind her father and two sisters, who thought the world of her. April was eighteen and heading off to college, her father in his late forties with prematuring gray hair as he was left to raise his three daughters after his wife's death. April was the eldest daughter, the next that followed was Molly, who had just turned sixteen years old. The youngest was Samantha, having just turned ten years old and the cause of their mother's early death. Julia, April's mother, had died as she tried to bring her final daughter into the world. The child birth was too much, and Julia's weakened body couldn't keep up. She had flatlined, almost killing Samantha in the process.
Without a mother figure in their lives, Molly and Samantha had taken to looking up at their sister as their mother. At the time, eight year old April was helping her father cope and with various chores around the house. This hadn't destroyed her positive out look on life, but the loss of her mother had chipped away a piece of her heart, starting a small crack. However, everyone knows how that goes. All it takes is one tiny crack and over time, the crack grows as more pressures are applied. It was finally time for April to take her flight, and all she did was hurriedly kissed them and didn't even so much as offer a good-bye as she raced through the airport to hurry and catch her flight before it left without her.
April arrived in New York on December seventh, and instantly went about asking anyone she ran into if they had heard of the college that had given her the scholarship. No one had any idea where it was, one man had even asked her if she was joking. Only after two days of searching and finally finding someone that was of some use to her did April find out the heart-clenching truth. Not only was the college located no where around the area, it didn't even exist. This was enough to cause the crack that had formed in her heart due to her mother's death to increase. She had no where to go! She had no money! How was she going to survive in this cold, heartless city? What could she do to make a living for herself? April had wandered aimlessly for days, sleeping in Central Park and using public restrooms to fix herself up.
She couldn't live like this, she knew that. What else was there to do, though? The female was sitting on a bench within the park she had been using as her home, glaring at the sidewalk beneath her. It was in the middle of the afternoon and she had been in the same spot for well over an hour, sitting, thinking. "You look like you want to forget." A voice from her right stated, causing the red-headed female to jerk and tear her gaze away from the pavement to glance up to the speaker. "W-what?" The man was wearing a long jacket, even though it wasn't all that cold outside. A beanie was adorning his head, and April found herself wondering how, even in the slightly chilled air, that man wasn't collasping from heat stroke. "The first hit is free, and it will make you forget all your problems."
If only she had stayed home, in Texas.
She was young, she was naive, she didn't know better. Her plans of going to college and becoming a famous fashion designer had fallen through because of a fake scholarship that had built her up and had torn her down into a rut that she would never be able to escape. The man that had walked up to her in the park that day, almost two months ago, had been right. The first hit was free, and she had forgotten everything that had troubled her. However, he wasn't so kind after that. April had fallen from her high hours later, and she found herself searching desperately for 'The Man', as he had told her to call him as, to get her next hit. That eurphoric feeling of never having to worry about another thing was addicting. She didn't want to ever feel again if she didn't have too. Feeling was too painful.
This joy it brought, she wanted to share it with the world. However, she had to be able to keep herself steadily supplied before she went out and shared her little baggie full of white happiness with the world, wouldn't she? It hadn't taken April long to come up with a reason to call her father and sweet-talk the money out of him. She was daddy's baby girl, he didn't have a reason not to believe her. The distance also allowed for April to be able to lie her ass off without anyone finding out. Within the next week, five hundred dollars was sent to her from her father. 'Book rental', she had told him. Wasn't the college scholarship supossed to pay for that? He had forgotten that part and wanted his daughter to be successful. Oh, if only he could see her now!
Another month flew by before April found someone who was willing to accept the happiness she wanted to spread. He was a young man, maybe two or three years older than herself, who was the singer in a band Well Hungarians. The joke had caused her to stiffle a giggle, which normally might have been forced, but this time it was geniune. His name was Roger Davis, and he was utterly gorgeous. April thought the world of him and knew that he would make it to stardom, however, Roger thought otherwise. He had met April at the bar one night and they had gotten to talking, and he had moreless spilt his guts out due to the alcohol in his system. He confessed that they could barely keep the gigs coming in and that the band was falling apart from the inside out and that he didn't know if he would be able to handle it.
It was then that April pulled out her most prized possession and placed it in his hand, leaning towards him and smiling as she whispered softly into his ear. "You won't ever have to feel a thing with this, Roger. I promise you that." It was at that moment that April brought the near rock star into the downward spiral with her. He continued to play gigs and after each and everyone of them April would shoot up, continuing to offer it to Roger who was still refusing the drug. He would watch her with sad eyes as she passed the needle around with the rest of the groupies that wanted that one hit. It pained him to watch her like this, because he was head over heels in love with the beautiful red-haired woman sitting beside him each night, falling asleep in his arms after her high wore down.
She had begged, pleaded and even guilt tripped the man until his resolve finally broke down and he finally took the drug that April had been trying to offer him for months, now. April would just smile and grin as she watched him shoot up, happy that she was now spreading her numbness around to the man she cared so deeply for. He made her happy, he made her feel loved.
He was her savior.
She was his downfall.
April was careless when it came to her needles, unlike Roger. Roger was uptight about it, constantly worrying about the thought of AIDS lingering in one of those needles, so he refused to pass his around or use one that had been passed around. April, however, was normally too high to remember if she had been the one to start the needle or if she was accepting it from someone else. She didn't care, she just wanted the numb feeling that came along with it. Roger would try and warn her about sharing a needle, but this usually resulted in the girl exploding on her boyfriend, accusing him of wanting to deny her of her own happiness.
However, Roger was finally tired of it. He dragged both himself and April to the clinic to get tested, she had been too careless and now she was displaying outward signs that was worrying the both of them. Blood samples were taken and they were told to come back within a week to check back for the results. The following week was filled with nothing but short-tempers and arguements that ended with one of them storming from the loft that Roger shared with his friends. Normally the one running off was April, searching out The Man as she went and bought her next hit. However, when the pair returned back to the clinic to pick up their test results, April couldn't help but break down as she read the paper that had been presented to her, Roger had his own.
Both of them read HIV positive.
Roger had never once shared a needle with anyone, not even April. How had he gotten the disease? The two of them had thought this over countless time, only to have one incident arise that had been nearly a month an a half ago. The one time that Roger hadn't been able to find a condom, the one time that he had let April and his lust-driven mind get the better of him. Now he was going to die prematurely from this disease, the one he had tried so hard to avoid. Atleast he would have the love of his life to live out the rest of his days with him. Or so he had come to believe, but little did he know of the thoughts that had been running through April's head after finding out that she had AIDS. The breaking up of Roger's band had caused another crack to be added to her heart, and this news had completely destroyed it, causing the fragile thing to completely shatter into a thousand pieces.
It was funny how your life flashed before your eyes when you were at the end, when your death was looming before you and there was no way to escape it. What was funnier is the way everything plays out before you in slow-motion as you were about to take your own life. Idly, April laid in the bathtub, ice cold water coming from the shower head to drench her prone form, bloody cross-shaped cuts on her wrists. The water in the tub had tinted a washed-out red and was draining, much like the spark of life that remained in the girl's eye as she stared vacantly up at the ceiling. She wondered what would become of her father, with his gray hair coming in too early as he took care of the remaining two daughters by himself. She wondered how Molly and Samantha would take to losing another mother-like figure, and she even wondered how Roger would react when he found her in the bathtub.
April Erickson hadn't always been a 'bad girl'. Infact, she was just like any normal girl growing up in a content and happy life.
She had dreams, just like any little girl.
She had loved ones that cared for her.
However, she gave all of that away and traded it so that she would never have to feel again, and in doing this she brought down the one person that had ever made her feel alive.
He was her savior.
She was his downfall.