My first attempt at EVER writing ANY sort of fanfiction. No flames please.
NOTE: I DO NOT OWN RENT OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS!
Roger drove off, feeling very angry and self-righteous. But mad as he was at Mimi for everything that had happened, he was still very much in love with her, much as he didn't want to admit it. It was all he could do to keep driving and not stop the car and run back and make up with Mimi. But he couldn't. How could she do that to him? How could she start using again? How could she be going with Benny? Benny, the jerk who tried to get them to pay rent. Benny, who was married and cheating on his wife with Mimi. Benny. He couldn't do that. He couldn't make up with her when she was seeing Benny.
But those EYES. Her eyes as she was crying and saying goodbye to him. The glazed-over look, as though she was sick. The redness, as though she'd been crying for hours. The fresh tears that came to her eyes as she said goodbye. The paleness of her face. Her emaciated body. Somehow he knew he'd never get rid of that horrible image. It would haunt him for as long as he was gone. But he needed to leave. To escape from everything that happened. Mimi's using and leaving him for Benny, Angel dying, Mark holding him accountable for his actions, Collins's grief over Angel. He just couldn't deal with it all.
A tear trickled down his cheek. How could he have gotten here? If only he hadn't asked Mimi to join him at the Life Café. Then he could have avoided at least some of this. But he did love her. He just wanted her to better herself. That's why he got so mad at her. That's why he left her in the first place. So she'd figure out that she wanted him instead of the drugs. Wasn't it? Or was it just that he was always measuring her up to April and she could never be good enough for him because she wasn't April? He wasn't sure anymore. But Mimi's smile. It reminded him of April. And her personality. Right from the moment they met. When he'd told her that she looked familiar and Mimi had said, "Like your dead girlfriend." He laughed. That was SO Mimi. And SO April, too. Being with Mimi was almost like being back with April. Was that it? Was he afraid of that? He couldn't tell. All he knew was that he needed to get away. To go to Santa Fe. Hey, maybe he'd open up a restaurant. He chuckled as he remembered Collins's dream of doing just that. Nah, he couldn't cook. But he could write. He'd write his song. His song for April. Then he would be able to move on.
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Roger pulled into the first hotel he could find. He hadn't been in Santa Fe 10 minutes and already he was homesick. He missed Mimi. He wanted to go home to her and hold her and tell her he loved her. He missed Mark and Collins. How was Mark getting along with his documentary? Was Collins doing OK after Angel's death? What about Maureen and Joanne? Were they still together or had they broken up again? Had Maureen done another protest since he left? Hell, he even missed that prick Benny. He'd thought that what he needed was to get away from everyone in order to see things clearly, but the reality was that he couldn't see anything clearly without them. But he couldn't go back. He'd spent most of his money getting to Santa Fe and didn't have enough to get back. There was only one thing he could do: find a way to make some money and get himself home. So he walked into the hotel and got a room.
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It had been a month since Roger had arrived in Santa Fe. He'd sold his car and bought a guitar to work with. He'd gotten a job playing at a bar close to the hotel he now called home. Yeah, OK, working for a place like that was selling his soul, but he was desperate. He had to earn enough money to live and save enough to get back to New York, too. He almost had enough. A couple more weeks and he'd be able to leave. But he was no closer to finishing his song for April than he had been when he got to Santa Fe a month ago. As a matter of fact, he hadn't even started it. Every time, he went to work on it, he'd try to picture April. But all he could see was Mimi's eyes as she was saying goodbye to him. Those pale, sad eyes. That look, like she was letting the disease take over her body and letting herself die. He started to cry for what seemed like the millionth time. He couldn't take it all. He couldn't cope with everything that had happened to him. And he sure as hell couldn't write his song for April when he kept having visions of Mimi. He looked at the clock. Time to head off to work, playing stupid songs for stupid drunk people.
It was 1 in the morning and Roger had just played his last song ("Leaving on a Jet Plane," by request from one of the bar's regular customers). It had been so hard to keep his composure while he was singing that song, but now that it was over, he let the tears come. That song had hit a little too close to home. He started to pack up his stuff, trying not to let anyone notice the tears that were coming down his cheeks and his red eyes. Unfortunately, Tim, the bartender, saw.
"Hey Roger, come have a drink," he said as he was wiping off the bar for the night.
Roger stalled. He didn't want to tell someone he barely knew everything about his life. But Tim was a nice enough guy. He'd been the closest thing Roger had to a friend in Santa Fe. And it would be nice to talk to someone about everything. So he went and sat down at the bar as Tim poured him some Stoli.
"So what's going on, Roger?"
"It's a long story."
"Well, I've got nothing to do until tomorrow night. If you need to talk, I'm here to listen."
And talk Roger did. He told Tim everything. About being the front man for The Well Hungarians. About meeting April and falling madly in love with her. About using heroin with her. About finding out they had AIDS. About finding April in the bathtub with her wrists slit a week later. About him and Mark and Collins and Benny and Maureen all living together. About Benny moving out to get married to Alison. About Maureen dumping Mark for Joanne. About meeting Angel and then having him die only 10 months later. And, of course, about Mimi. About how he regretted ever leaving. And about how he was trying to write a song for April, but he couldn't get Mimi's eyes out of his mind.
An hour and a half later, Roger finally stopped talking. Tim poured him a fourth glass of Stoli and came out from behind the bar to sit next to him.
"Roger, have you ever thought that seeing Mimi's eyes every time you try to write your song for April is a sign? Maybe it's a sign that you're supposed to be writing a song for Mimi before you write one for April. Next time that happens, don't push the vision away. Let the words come." He shoved a wad of cash into Roger's hand. "And take my tips for the night. Contribution to your going home fund." Roger looked at the money. Between that and the paycheck he'd just gotten and tips for the night, he finally had enough to leave. Of course, he'd have to give the bar's owner a few days' notice. And he'd have to sell his guitar and buy a car to get back. But he could go home!
When Roger woke up the next morning, he did what he'd done every day since he got there. Tried to write his song. Of course, Mimi's eyes were the first thing that popped into his mind. But instead of trying to push it out of his mind, he did what Tim had suggested. He let everything he was thinking out. And an hour and many tears later, he had his song. His one song. THIS was the song he'd always wanted to write. He couldn't wait to play it for Mimi when he got back! Speaking of going back, he decided he'd better give Mark a call to let him know he was coming home. He went outside to the pay phone in front of the hotel lobby. He put in a quarter and dialed the loft number, hoping to God that Mark hadn't changed it. The phone rang twice, then he heard the all-too-familiar "Speak" that meant Mark was either not there or screening the calls. He hoped it was the former. He didn't really want to talk to Mark. Just tell him he was coming home. The answering machine beeped.
"Mark, it's Roger. I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be coming home soon. Please tell Mimi for me, too. I'll see you in a week or so." Roger hung up, thankful that Mark hadn't answered the phone.
When he got to work that night, he found Pat, the owner of the bar. He told Pat that he finally had enough money to go home and thanked him for the temporary job, but said that all he really wanted was to go back to his friends. Pat gave Roger a hug and said, "Just go. It's alright. You got your paycheck last night." He handed him some cash. "Here's your pay for the past two nights. Go home, Roger. Good luck." Roger smiled and thanked him, then went off to find Tim.
"Tim, I did it! I wrote my song! The song I've always wanted to write! But you were right. It was for Mimi, not for April. And I'm going home tomorrow morning."
"That's great, Roger. Hey, you've got your guitar. Let's hear your song."
"Um, OK."
So Roger sat down, got out his guitar, and tuned it. Then he started playing his song. He saw Mimi right in front of him as he did so. He felt like he was playing it for her, even though she wasn't there. When he finished, he looked up. There were tears in Tim's eyes, and in Pat's, too.
"That was beautiful, Roger. Really," said Tim. "Best of luck to you."
"Yeah, good luck, Roger," echoed Pat. Roger thanked them as he headed out the door of the bar for the last time. He was going home. If he was lucky, he'd be able to get to a pawn shop before they closed and sell his guitar tonight. And luck, it seemed, was on his side. Right up the street, there was a pawn shop with the lights on. He went in and got more than he was expecting for his guitar. Then he went back to the hotel for one more night, wanting to get a good night's sleep before he headed home.
Roger woke up the next morning and had to stop and think a minute before he remembered what was happening today. He was going home. He went to the car dealership to buy a car to get back to New York. To his surprise, the same car he'd used to get to Santa Fe was still on the lot. He went in and asked about it. He paid exactly what he had sold the car for. He drove to the nearest grocery store and bought some food and water, then he drove off, leaving Santa Fe forever.
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Roger drove into New York City and let a fresh wave of tears come as he saw the familiar buildings and landmarks. He drove to the nearest used car dealership and sold his car. He then took the subway back to Alphabet City and went to the pawn shop he'd sold his Fender to, hoping against hope that it hadn't been sold yet. By the time he got there, they were closing up, but he begged and the man let him in. He asked about his Fender and the man behind the counter said that it had almost sold several times, but somehow it was still there. Roger felt a wave of relief come over him as he bought his Fender back. He walked out of the pawn shop and got back on the subway, heading for the loft.
Roger stood outside the loft, his suitcase in one hand and his Fender in the other. He hesitated for a moment before starting up the stairs. He walked up the three flights of stairs and knocked on the loft door. Mark opened it and Roger had never seen a bigger smile on his face. He dropped his bags and gave Mark a huge bear hug.
"God, Mark, I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, Rog. Did you find your song?"
"Yeah, just the day before I left actually. I'd just finished it when I called you."
"That's great! And it's good to have you back."
"Hey, what about your film? Did you finish it?"
"Yep, it's done."
"Awesome. Hey, how's Mimi?"
"Um, Roger, I don't know how to tell you this..."
"Tell me what?"
A tear came to Mark's eye and he hesitated.
"Mark, what is it? Tell me."
"Mimi's been missing since the day before you called. Everyone's been looking for her."
"What do you mean, missing?"
"I mean she dropped out of rehab and no one knows where she is."
"Who's looking?"
"Everyone. Me, Maureen, Joanne, Benny. We even went to the police and filed a missing person report. But we haven't found her."
Roger sat down on the couch, barely able to process what he had just heard. Mimi was missing. He might never see her again. But he was sure he knew why she disappeared. Because he had been such a prick. He hadn't stood by her and helped her to overcome her heroin addiction. No, like the jerk he was, he had left her. And now she was gone, because of him. Because he broke her heart. But, wait. If she had disappeared because of him, maybe he would be able to succeed where the others had failed. But first thing was first. He needed some rest.
The next day, Roger wrote up a bunch of fliers, advertising for a new band. With a pang to his stomach, Roger wished for the millionth time that Angel was still alive. She would have been the perfect drummer. On the fliers, he left his full name and the loft's phone number. He hoped Mimi would see it and realize he was home.
When Roger got a band together a week later, they started playing everywhere they could. At every gig, Roger looked through the crowd, hoping to find Mimi. He thought he saw her a couple of times, but when he looked again, she was gone. It had been a figment of his imagination. He never found her at one of those gigs, but it was still good to be playing gigs again.
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Christmas Eve was the first day in a couple of weeks that Roger and his band weren't playing a gig. Much as he loved playing music again, the past few weeks had been emotionally draining and he was glad to have a rest. Plus, Collins was coming home tonight and Mark was going to show them his documentary. He was looking forward to a couple of relaxing days with his two best friends. He'd all but given up on finding Mimi. He felt some tears coming as he realized that today was the one-year anniversary of the day he'd first met Mimi. She had asked him to light her candle, then asked him to take her out. Of course, he had been a jerk and thrown her out, but then he apologized to her and she came to the Life Cafe with them after Maureen's protest. The phone rang. That would be Collins, asking them to throw down the key.
A couple of minutes later, Collins was in the loft with a bottle of Stoli and some cash, which he gave Roger and Mark. They were reminiscing about the old days and forgotten dreams (one of which was Collins' dream to open a restaurant in Santa Fe, which brought the reply "But you'd miss New York before you could unpack" from Roger) when they heard Maureen yelling from the street below. "Mark? Roger? Anyone? HELP!!!" The three of them ran to the window to find Maureen and Joanne holding a barely conscious Mimi. "We can't get her up the stairs!" yelled Maureen. "Hurry UP!!! It's freezing!" Roger was halfway down the stairs before Mark and Collins had even left the loft. Roger grabbed Mimi and ran back up the stairs, with Mark and Collins leading the way.
When they got there, Roger looked around for somewhere to put Mimi. The idiots had filled up the couch with Mark's filming equipment. With no other alternative, Maureen and Joanne cleared off the steel table and put a sheet and pillow over it. Roger put her there. She was barely alive, but still knew it was him.
"Roger, you're back," she said weakly.
"I'm back, baby," he said. They both apologized to each other, and Mimi started coughing violently. "Hold on, Mimi, there's something you should hear," he said. He ran and grabbed his guitar and started playing his song for her. He could barely sing because he was so close to crying, but he somehow kept his composure. He needed her to hear the song. Right at the end, she went limp. Roger had never cried so much in his life. "MIMI!!!" he wailed. He kissed her and laid her on the table. He let the tears come, not caring that everyone was looking. But then...Mimi's finger moved. Then her whole hand. Then her eyes opened back up. She was alive!
"I was in a tunnel, heading for this warm, white light. And I swear Angel was there. And she looked good. And she said, 'Turn around, girlfriend, and listen to that boy's song,'" said Mimi.
Roger couldn't speak. He just held Mimi to him and never wanted to let her go again.
There was a knock on the door a moment later. Mark answered and Benny walked in. Benny looked over to the table and saw Mimi sitting there in Roger's arms. He walked over and discreetly put a hand on her shoulder. "Mimi, you're back," he said. "And you, too, Roger. Good to see you again."
Roger couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. "You too, Benny. I've missed you."
Roger looked around him. He was surrounded by friends, Mimi was alive, and he'd found his song. Life was finally good again.