Mimi's Scrapbook
A fic written for my friend Missy. Love you honeybear!
I do not own RENT
Mimi Marquez sighed as she looked down from the small window of her cramped apartment. Roger, her boyfriend, was away at work playing for a new show on Broadway and wouldn't be home until at least midnight. So, she stared out at the busy streets below, alone with her memories.
Roger smiling, having been very drunk at the Life Café. Roger thumbing his precious fender guitar as he wrote another song. Roger sleeping, looking as peaceful as he could possibly get, what with his slightly insane life.
Stirring from her daydream, Mimi went to the old hope chest where she stored her most treasured possessions. And there, hidden beneath an avalanche of old programs and flyers from the Cat Scratch Club, was an old time worn Scrapbook.
Its front cover was adorned by her name, in gold letters, but they were cracked and peeling now. She had started this when she had come to America. Yes, there on the inside cover was her old passport, the ink brown and faded with age.
Name, Melissa Marquez
Age, 16
Sixteen. The night her father had come home drunk and disowned her. It was then that she had run away. Once she had come here, she had struggled to get around, using the broken English that almost no one understood. Too young to support her self, she wound up on the street. But the pain was still there no matter how hard she tried to forget. One day a young man, his grin already nearly toothless, had offered her an escape. It came in the form of a white powder, referred to only as X.
She lived in a world of wings and roller coasters. But once she got off, her world came down around her again. Teasing her, letting her dream and then dropping her cruelly into harsh reality. Three years. Three years of denial, addiction and pain.
Then she had found him. She came to the door, asking him to light her candle. He was in denial too. He was scared and alone. She drew him out, loved him. But it wasn't enough. He left and came back again, and she had nearly died. She would have if it weren't for him. Roger. No. She had to start at the beginning.
She pulled the worn passport out of the book and sighed.
Flashback
A young Mimi sits on a small cot, below deck on a ship. She is pale with hunger and there are dark circles under her eyes. The one small glimpse of the sea she has is too painful for her to stare at. Laying down on her bunk, she tried once more to close her eyes. She smiles briefly as sleep overtakes her.
She is woken by the jarring note of a whistle and jerks in surprise. "All ashore!" The captain spoke too loudly, obviously drunk. Mimi staggers to the top deck and gets off the ship shakily. Reaching into the pocket of her worn coat, she seizes her last remaining dollar. Holding the crumpled bill in her hand, she walks five miles to the nearest coffee shop. She walked in weakly and put the worn dollar on the counter. "Whatever's warm. Please" The last word is a low whisper and a tear escapes Mimi's clear blue eyes. The shocked owner hands Mimi a small cup of coffee, but takes it back and trades it for the largest they have. "Here, you look like you need this." The man smiles kindly and pushes the dollar bill back into the stiff cold hand. The coffee warms her numb fingers and Mimi smiles gratefully. She staggers out once more and crawls into a deserted cardboard box. Inside there lay a bloody syringe and a small bag of pure white powder, as fine as confectionary sugar to the touch. Mimi could see that the contents of both items matched. Almost as if in a trance, Mimi slid her new find into her arm, hissing in pain as a burning sensation spread through her body. Then all was black.
When she woke again, a young man was standing over her, grinning down. "Little duckie's found my home, eh?" Mimi screamed in terror and tried her best to scramble away from his surprisingly forceful grip, but to no avail. Trapping her, he slid the syringe into the bag and filled it again, aware that Mimi was watching his every move. Inserting the sharp needle under her already bruised skin, he held her as she jerked and hissed in pain. "Little duckie will sleep now and it will be alright." He laid her down, not minding as her head hit the pavement with an ominous crack. He stripped her and forced the dazed Mimi to lose forever her status of a little girl. Mimi had awoken again dizzy and sick. She vomited repeatedly, noticing the blood that stained her tattered cardboard "home". She had been alone. Alone and with child.
End flash back.
Mimi shuddered at the gruesome memory. Almost as if an angel had seen her fear of the past, the door to the loft clicked open. Mimi quickly hid the scrapbook and chest and embraced the snow covered Roger.
Burying her nose in his leather, wool lined coat. She nuzzled his shoulder, silently thanking God for letting her last another day. She hurried to the small hotplate that was their only heat source for food and removed the can of clam chowder she had been heating, spooning it into bowls. Roger sank into a chair, tired, but alert. Mimi sat across from him, their hands linked across the table. They both spoke at once.
"I love you"