The night was February third. It was around four a.m. and the Cat Scratch club was closing for the day. Mimi, fully though skimpily dressed in the outfit she had forced herself into, was staring at her reflection in the mirror when she noticed two of the younger girls whispering to each other. Their names were… Monica and Bridget if she remembered correctly. She stood up and moved closer to see if she could catch any of what they were saying.
"The city is all new to me, I'm afraid," murmured Monica, a small Hispanic girl with long black hair that reminded Mimi of herself from a few years ago. She couldn't have been older than seventeen. Probably used a fake ID to get this job.
"Not to me," Bridget, a taller girl with short blonde hair and green eyes, replied, "I've been in the city all my life."
"I couldn't imagine a worse place to raise a child," Monica shrugged, shaking her head.
"It's terrible," Mimi interjected, causing the girls to jump, "But if you've got nowhere else to go, it's the best place you have. You've just got to get in with the right people."
"Of course, those people are hard to come by," Hannah, one of the older girls who had worked in the club since Mimi showed up, added.
"Don't we all know it," Bridget nodded.
The four girls walked out to the main bar area, where the bartender was just finishing up wiping off the bar. Hannah grabbed a chair at the nearest table and sat down. "So what brought you two here?" she asked, pointing at Monica and Bridget.
"I had to get out of White Plains," Monica said sadly, shaking her head, "There was never enough money to feed my family. I had three younger sisters and two younger brothers. My mother was an alcoholic and my father abused me, both physically and sexually. It was just a bad situation that my parents covered up by making us look like one big happy family, and I got sick of it. So I came here."
"Bad choice," Mimi said simply, causing the three others to laugh.
"I think that's obvious," Hannah agreed, "Let's face it, if any of us could get out of here, we would. I've been saving up wages and tips since I turned twenty-one, and I'm not even close to what I need to get out of here and find a decent place."
"Uh oh," Monica laughed, "Bridget, we're gonna be stuck here until we're old." The other three girls laughed again.
"Hey, Mimi's getting up there in age too, aren't ya dear?" Hannah asked.
"I'm only twenty-two."
"You see what I mean. These girls are going to take over sooner or later. How old are you two?"
"Nineteen," Bridget responded.
"Same," Monica nodded.
"Okay, now tell us the truth," Hannah inclined her head to Monica, who shrunk back in her chair.
"Seventeen."
"That's better."
"So, why are you here Bridget?"
"At first, it was because I needed the money to buy drugs. Now, I'm putting it to much better uses. I've been clean for almost a year now."
"Good for you," Mimi smiled, "How'd you do it?"
"My friends helped me through it mostly. I also started up a new hobby. I'm really into photography now."
"That's great, Bridget."
"Oh my god," Hannah jumped up, having looked at the time, "We'd better get going. We need to be rested to put on another show tonight."
"She's right," Mimi nodded. The four girls left the club and departed in three different directions.
Mimi walked alone, past the loft, glancing up at the window of her and Roger's apartment, almost trying to send him a psychic message telling him she'd be back a little late. Finally, she reached her destination, the cemetery. Quickening her pace, she reached the headstone she was looking for. She reached down and ran her fingers along the letters that spelled out Mark Gregory Cohen. He had committed suicide a year earlier, saying he couldn't take it anymore. Mimi wiped a tear from her eye and whispered, "You would have liked her Mark. I wish she could have met you sooner." The girl that accompanied that statement was little Bridget. Mimi thought she would have been perfect for him, and…
"She might have saved you."
