Chapter 1

"Mimi? Are you home?" The door banged as Roger kicked it closed with his heel. The apartment was freezing, and he made a move to light a fire, all the while wondering where his girlfriend could be. Roger had moved in with Mimi almost six months ago, and now that Christmas was approaching once more he found himself excited about the holidays for the first time in … well, for a long time. He had been busking all day; his finger ached from the combination of endless guitar playing and relentless cold, but he was happy. If he had calculated correctly, he had now earned enough to buy a real present for Mimi – a coat, maybe, or a new scarf. He was cutting it fine, he knew – Christmas was less than a week away – but he could shop tomorrow and sort everything out.

Roger jumped as the forgotten match in his hand burnt his fingers, and he quickly dropped it in the old, slightly singed garbage can alongside the old newspapers and crumpled sheet music. He angrily stuck his fingers in his mouth to ease the searing heat, hearing the door hit the wall as it opened behind him. He brought his hands to his sides, ignoring the throbbing pain as he stepped forward to embrace the girl he loved. Mimi raised her face to Roger's as he leant in for a kiss. It was gentle and tender, something neither of them had experienced much before they formed their relationship together, and Roger found it surprisingly enjoyable. However, when Mimi reached down to take his hand, he couldn't stop himself from instinctively flinching and pulling away.

Mimi followed Roger into the room as he walked away and sat down heavily on their ratty sofa.

"Baby? What's wrong?" Mimi asked, concern in her voice. "Did I hurt you?" The sadness and guilt in her warm eyes were more than Roger could bear and he rushed to comfort her.

"No! Of course not Meems! It's all my fault." Mimi visibly relaxed at the reassurance as Roger continued. "I did a stupid thing. Didn't realise how quickly those damn matches burnt. It's nothing." As much as he kept talking, he could tell that his girlfriend was going to continue staring at him with those deep eyes until he gave in and let her see. He pulled his hand out from its protective shield under his arm and held it out to Mimi, noticing for the first time how pink and shiny the tips of his thumb and index finger were.

"Oh, baby." Mimi breathed. "Stay here. I'll be right back." She stood abruptly, disappearing into the tiny bathroom at the back of the apartment and returning moments later with a box of band-aids and a bottle containing half an inch of clear liquid.

Mimi knelt in front of Roger, setting the box and the bottle down and taking his large hand in both of her small ones. She leant forward, slowly and gently kissing the tips of his burnt fingers. Roger winced as her lips came into contact with the raw skin but said nothing, allowing his girlfriend to continue her ministrations.

"Rog, baby, this is gonna hurt, 'kay?" Mimi warned, unscrewing the top of the bottle. "We've got no real stuff left, but I found a little bit of Stoli through there. I have to clean your fingers and this is the best we've got. Is that ok?" She glanced up to see Roger nod his head curtly, his teeth clenched tightly in preparation. "Ready?" She whispered. He nodded again. "3…2…1." She tipped the bottle and Roger had to bite back a yelp, hissing through gritted teeth as heat and pain flared through his hand and up his arm. Mimi paused, but Roger waved his free arm vaguely in her direction.

"Keep going." He moaned, eyes closed. "I can take it." Mimi steeled herself and poured, trying to ignore Roger's quiet sounds of pain, until the bottle was empty. She swiftly and deftly wrapped his fingers in band-aids before kissing each one once more. Looking up, she noticed that tears had sprung to both of their eyes, and she wiped the salty sadness from Roger's cheeks.

Roger's fingers continued to throb erratically. He was aware that he was being pathetic, but he didn't really care. It hurt, damn it! Mimi stood up, grabbing his uninjured hand and pulling him to his feet.

"Um … Meems? Where are you taking me?" She turned and smiled coyly.

"You'll see. I think I might have something to … take your mind off the pain for a while." She led him into the bedroom they shared and sat him down on the edge of the bed. As he moved to relieve himself of the broken spring he was sitting on, Mimi crossed to the window and rummaged in the small wooden box she kept there. When she turned back to face him, she was hiding something behind her back. Roger's confusion only grew as Mimi started to speak.

"Now, I know you'll probably hate me for this, and you have every right to. But, please, hear me out." She took Roger's raised eyebrow as am invitation to continue. "Believe me, I never planned to need this. I only kept it because … well, I don't really know why I kept it. But now … a little won't hurt, surely? And it'll stop your hand hurting too. So please don't hate me?" When he made no move to reply she stepped towards him, withdrawing the object the object she was concealing from behind her back. His eyes widened comically and he backed away as he saw what it was. Fully revealed and glinting in the moonlight. Deadly, but strangely beautiful. A full hypodermic syringe.

Long minutes passed in silence before Roger regained the ability to speak.

"Meems. Babe. Is that what I think it is?" Her glance towards the floor told him everything he needed to know. "Why, Meems? After we worked so hard? After you promised?"

"I kept my promise, baby." She hurried to reply. "I bought this ages ago. Before. I swear. And it's pure. I made sure. And I'll only give you a little; just enough to stop the pain. This of it as medicine if it helps." Her eyes were saucers, shining as she reasoned, almost pleaded, with him.

Roger was going mad. He had to be. He had finally, completely, lost it. He knew this for a fact, because the more the Mimi was talking, the more appealing her proposition was becoming. And that was crazy. He had worked so hard to get rid of that stuff; had lost so much because of it. But, deep down, he remembered how good it had felt. Those good times had been fantastic. But the bad ones had been horrific. April. No. Forget April. He had Mimi now. And Mimi loved him. She wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. Would she?

Before he had time to think any more, Roger found himself nodding. He took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, choosing to ignore the old scars and track marks and telling himself repeatedly that it would be fine. One time wouldn't ruin his years of hard work. He would give it all up again after tonight. It was just pain relief; nothing else.

He lay back on the bed, stretching out his arm towards Mimi. The sharp but familiar sting of the needle brought a moment of doubt, but by then it was too late. The drug was already coursing through his system, surging through his veins. He closed his eyes, basking in the glow, and felt Mimi – his Mimi – lie down next to him. Beyond that, Roger did not recall, and nor did he care. All he knew was deep, radiant happiness, the kind that had been missing for far too long, as he slid gently into a warm pool of light. Winter could wait. Tonight there was only sun, peace … and Mimi.

Let me know what you think people. First Rent fic. Its been written for ages but I never got round to uploading. There are 7 chapters and it could maybe go further, but I'm going to wait a bit and see how many reviews etc I get before I type up the next chapter. Reviews are love people – I might be less mean to Roger if you review! (Maybe … Probably not!)