Disclaimer- NONE OF THIS BELONGS TO ME! Well, Ella, but no one else.
A/N- Hey! This is my first story here, so bear with me. Please, please, PLEASE R&R. Some of the chapters will be really really short, but I'll upload a couple at a time then. Please, I'm open to critique here, so, well, read!
Roger was rather pleased to say that he was happy. He was living with Mimi, who was finally completely off smack. He had written his great song (though Mimi assured him that there were many more to come). He would be celebrating his twenty-fourth birthday in a few short days. There was absolutely nothing in the world that upset him.
He looked down at Mimi, who was asleep, lying across his lap, her dark hair strewn across her face. She looked to him like a beautiful, exhausted angel. He had the sudden urge to sing about his angel, his light, his song, his Mimi. But, looking down again, he realized that he didn't want to disturb her with the music or the sudden motion of having her pillow (otherwise known as his lap) stand up and walk away.
Roger leaned down and gently kissed her cheek, stroking it with the pad of his thumb and looking around their apartment. With Mimi's and his junk littered everywhere, it didn't look so bare or so sparse. Upcoming July promised that they wouldn't need heat for a good while yet. Mimi and he were usually both making money- between dancing and small-scale performances (birthday parties, mostly, he was ashamed to say), they weren't doing very badly. In fact, Roger realized with happy astonishment, they were doing pretty well.
Glancing down at his perfect, lovely angel again, Roger smiled a little, imagining lyrics in his head.
My angel,
My love,
My light,
Oh, my angel, we're okay…
They were corny and cheesy and really very bad, but Roger didn't mind. Lyrics didn't have to be as good as long as the only person who would ever hear them was the person they were about.
There were a few moments of peace, but they were soon interrupted by a knock at the door, which promptly woke Mimi up. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and glancing at Roger.
"H-how lonnng was I asleeeeep?" She asked, unable to suppress a yawn that had forced itself into the conversation.
Roger kissed her cheek. "Not too long. One sec, lemme see who's at the door."
Mimi nodded sleepily, glancing at the clock. It read sometime after eight at night, which meant that one automatically had to add two hours and seventeen minutes.
The knock came again, more urgently this time.
Roger squinted through the peephole, seeing Mark there. Automatically, he grinned, and then pulled a straight face. No need for Mark to think that he was whipped and soft just 'cuz he was in love.
Oh wait, he realized. I am.
As he opened the door, Mark took a deep breath.
"Mark, what's wrong?" Roger asked quickly. His friend looked worried, pale, and distraught.
"Roger, you know how you hate your family?" Mark asked quietly.
Roger set his jaw in a tight line. "Hate is a strong word. It's hard for me to like my family."
"What if I were to tell you that… um.. your… dad were to show up outside our apartment?" Mark asked quickly.
Roger frowned. "I'd say you lying, seeing as my dad has no clue where we live and I intend to keep it that way."
Mark nodded. "Okay, bad example. Suppose I were to tell you that… your sister was here? Standing outside our apartment?"
"I'd tell you to tell her to go fuck off and leave me alone," Roger said coolly.
"Roger, Ella's here, standing outside our apartment, with a backpack," Mark stated matter-of-factly, crossing his arms in a 'let's-pray-that-Roger-doesn't-try-to-shoot-the-messenger' kind of way.
"Shit! Tell her to go away!" Roger moaned. "Why isn't she still in Bumblefuck, New York?"
Mimi came up behind Roger suspiciously. "Who is Ella, Rog? Is this someone I should know about?"
"I had hoped not," Roger said seriously.
"She was at our door, asking where the hell you are," Mark muttered. "Probably still is, actually."
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Roger practically shouted, advancing on Mark.
"Roger?" a quiet voice called from the hallway as footsteps clomped down the stairs and stopped outside of Mimi's apartment.
Roger squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that if he opened them, the short, blond-haired girl standing in the hallway would vanish.
Mimi eyed the girl annoyedly, though realizing with great satisfaction that this 'Ella' wasn't nearly as pretty as she. "Yes, Roger, darling, who is she?"
"Ella, why the hell are you here?" Roger asked, still not opening his eyes.
"I need someplace to stay where my roomie won't charge me my firstborn," the girl said softly. "I figured you could, I dunno, maybe, um…?"
"Back off, bitch," Mimi said coldly. "Roger's mine now. So take your little stalker-ass home."
"He hasn't told you about me?" the other girl said, surprised. "Um, Rog, I know that you don't like to talk about us, but I am kinda sharing your gene pool…"
"Mimi, Ella's not any kind of an ex-girlfriend. This would be my kid sister, come back to haunt me," Roger said, finally opening his eyes. "Which means that she needs to get the hell out of here before I tell daddy dearest where she is."
"He knows, dipshit," she hissed annoyedly. "Otherwise I'd be crawling at that doorstep instead. But seriously! I'm finished school! I just need someplace to stay for like, two weeks so that I can get the rest of my tuition to Fordham without it all being eaten up by housing issues."
"Ella, you can't fucking stay here. I have a life. Get your own," Roger said irritatedly. "I can't dig you out of all of your problems! Deal with your little issues on your own."
Mimi frowned at Roger. She didn't particularly like Roger's little sister quite yet, but still. Family was family, and her brothers and sisters had always been important to her. "Why can't we just find her someplace to stay?"
"Mimi! She's the most annoying little bitch you've ever seen!" Roger exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "It's no wonder Dad probably kicked her out!"
Ella glared. "Fine. I'll just be off, then, see if I can make it through a night alone here without being beaten, raped, murdered, or all of the above."
The girl began to stalk down the stairs. Mark, of course, rolled his eyes and immediately grabbed her arm, marching her back upstairs.
"Roger," he said curtly. "This is your sister, apparently. She can sleep on someone's couch. It's not exactly a great burden."
"She's the burden!" Roger protested. "I don't want her here!"
"Roger, really, seriously, I won't be a problem! I'll be working most of the time anyway, Roger! You never even have to see me! Please, just tonight, at least. Then I'll go back to Su-fricking-burbia and find some other way to go to college."
Roger advanced on her angrily. "Ella! Just leave, okay?"
Mark frowned. "Roger, cool it. She can stay on the couch in the loft for the night. I don't care and you can stay down here and pretend that she doesn't exist. She leaves in the morning, everyone wins, we all move on."
Ella smiled at Mark, but it looked more like a pained wince. She returned her cocoa-brown gaze to Roger. "Rog, please, I know you're still mad, but I'll do anything if you forgi-"
Roger turned his back to the blond girl appealing to him, shoving to the back of his mind his brotherly instincts. Throbbing with fury, he stormed out onto the fire escape, yanking his guitar along with him. He heard Mimi start to follow, but he furiously slammed the window shut, hoping that she took the hint that he wanted to be alone.