He looked out the window. It was pouring rain. He remembered how they used to love taking walks in the rain. Dancing. Running. Splashing eachother. Giggling furiously. He remembered how sometimes, on a rainy day, when he just felt so out of it, how she would sit with him and stare out the window. It had been one year since he lost her. It got harder everyday. He couldn't take it anymore.
"Roger? Are you doing okay?" Mark said entering the loft.
Mark could tell his best friend had been crying. And he knew exactly why. They all missed Mimi, just as they had missed Angel before her.
"I'm fine Mark. Just a little hungry that's all. I'm going to go out and get something to eat. I'll be back later."
Roger got up, grabbed his jacket, and left the loft. As if Mark didn't know where he was going. It was cold outside, but it was almost as though Roger felt nothing, as he trudged along the streets. It took him about twenty minutes, but he finally got there. He stared down at the tombstone engraved with "Maria 'Mimi' Marquez".