Author's Note: So this is basically what I think happened on the night of April's suicide. Please read and review!

Disclaimer: I am not Jonathan Larson's ghost. I bet you're shocked now.

Roger Davis swung open the door to his bedroom to see his girlfriend sitting on their bed, reading a magazine. She was dressed in a casual, loose, flowy, colorful, strapless dress. Her red hair hung down and her gold hoop earrings could be seen through the thick red layer. God, she looked so beautiful. He smiled to himself. He was the luckiest guy in the world.

"Hey, baby", Roger grinned entering the room and sitting next to April, causing her to jump.

"Oh, uhm, hey Rog", she smiled weakly.

"So, Mark and I are heading down to the Crooked Tree Creperie (A/N: Yes, that's an actual restaurant in the East Village, I've been there. I decided they needed a change from the Life Café), do you wanna come? Maureen's rehearsing for a protest and Collins is watching; Benny went on a date with that Allison chick," Roger invited, entwining his fingers with hers.

"Um, not now, baby", April replied nervously.

"April, are you okay?" Roger asked.

"I'm fine," she meekly replied, staring down at her magazine.

"No, you're not," Roger observed, concern laced in his voice, "Look me in the eye and tell me what's wrong".

"Baby, I'm fine," she muttered, her eyes still on her magazine, "I just have a headache".

Roger wasn't completely convinced, but decided to let it go. Maybe she was fine.

"Oh, okay, well, we won't be long. So, I guess I'll see you later", Roger stated, embracing his girlfriend and kissing a soft kiss on her red hair. April looked up and kissed him full on the lips like there was no tomorrow.

"I love you," she stated, meeting his eyes for the first time that night.

"I love you too, April. Why this sudden epiphany?" he chuckled.

"I just needed to make sure you knew that, okay?" she muttered.

"Um, okay", Roger smirked, kissing her one more time, "do you want us to pick you up some food?"

"Uh, no, I'm fine", she responded.

"Okay, well, I'll see you later", he stated, exiting the room, leaving April alone.

God, she loved him so much. He was her everything. She hated to do this to him, but there was no point in going on. No point in trying to survive. She was going to die anyway. She might as well get it over with. Seriously, Roger was the only thing she was living for and he was going to die too. There was no point in torturing herself. She shut her February issue of Vogue magazine and tossed it on the floor, rising and heading toward the bathroom, not looking back.

NODAYBUTTODAYNODAYBUTTODAYNODAYBUTTODAYNODAYBUTTODAYNODAYBUTTODAYNODAYBUTTODAYNODAYBUTTODAYNODAYBUTTODAY

Roger entered the loft and tossed his leather jacket on the couch; Mark followed suit, doing the same with his plaid coat.

"April, we're home. I know you said not to bring you anything, but I didn't listen. They had Nutella crepes, your favorite, so I brought you one", Roger hollered, heading toward their bedroom and swinging the door open to reveal the empty bedroom. "Mark, she's not here".

"That's weird, did she leave a note or something?" Mark inquired.

"No," Roger explained.

"Well, we'll go out and look for her in a minute. I have to take out these contacts, I am never wearing them again. My eyes are killing me! I'll wear glasses on my death bed," Mark lamented.

"Um, okay, Mark", Roger laughed as his best friend headed toward the bathroom and swung the door open. Mark searched along the pale yellow wall searching to find a light in the pitch black bathroom. He finally located it, and flicked the switch on. Mark then began to remove his contact lenses, cursing under his breathe the entire time about his loathing of them. Once he had slid on his glasses, he turned to throw them out and immediately let out a blood curdling scream at the sight he saw. Within seconds Roger walked in.

"Mark, what's wr-" Roger began, but stopped as he saw the bathtub. Inside it was April, blood spilled out all around her as she lay there cold and motionless. Roger stared for a good minute, tears automatically falling from his ice blue eyes, before speaking, "No, no, no", he shrieked through sobs, "Th-this can't be happening. Th-this is a joke. N-No, sh-she's not dead. Mark, she can't be dead. Sh-She was fine before I left. Wh-Why did she do this? Wh-Why her?"

"Roger-" Mark began.

"No", Roger wailed, "No, no, no, this isn't true. Sh-she was the love of my life. I would do anything for her. I would rather die than her. N-No. Th-this-". Roger gave up on his efforts to speak and collapsed on the bathroom floor, sobbing and sobbing.

Mark stood there, tears silently falling from his eyes.

"Rog, I'm sorry", he choked out softly as Roger sobbed and wailed.

Mark turned to leave so that Roger could be alone when he saw a note attached to the door with tape. He ripped it down off of the pale yellow door and inspected the messy scrawl. In April's writing was written the words "We've got AIDS".

"Oh God", Mark cried.

"What?" Roger wailed.

"Oh God," Mark repeated.

"What?" Roger yelled through heart wrenching sobs as Mark handed him the note.

Roger looked over the note and felt like he wanted to kill himself too. He had AIDS. The love of his life was dead, and left him with a disease that would kill him too.

A/N: I didn't like the ending very much, but oh well. Please review! I'm BEGGING you!