A/N- Hey, guys! I'm back with another story, hopefully a longer one this time. I really hope you like this. I'm not too sure of it myself, but I'd really like some feedback to let me know what I'm doing right or wrong. This is post-RENT, just in case you didn't realize it. It's kind of obvious, though. And I'm sorry if I insult anyone from CT in this chapter. You'll deal with it because I'm dealing with it. I live in CT, too. Okay, I think I'll shut up now. Please review if you read! Feedback is always helpful and when you review, I post faster.

So remember, READ & REVIEW!

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT.

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May 1993

I sat underneath our tree, strumming at my guitar. That's right, it was our tree. Before I lost Mimi to pneumonia last February, we would always come to this exact spot, not to do anything in particular, but just to sit and enjoy each other's company. The view from this spot is spectacular, too. Children play at the jungle gym to the right, ducks swim in the pond to the left.

I liked to come here because it not only reminded me of Mimi, but it helped clear my head. I liked to think that she sat with me, keeping me company and letting her beauty and grace flow freely. Sometimes it's hard to come by here because of that very reason. On days when the pain of losing her is too much to bear, I can't even walk past this spot. The thoughts and memories all come rushing back.

But when I do come here, it's natural that I want privacy. If anyone tried to invade 'our' spot, I wouldn't have it. I'd make them leave if it was the last thing I did. It's not something I liked to do or was proud of, but it's something that had to be done.

Absentmindedly, I started strumming 'Your Eyes'. Today is one year and three months since I've lost her, and the wound is still fresh. The only thing that gets me by these days is knowing that she's not suffering any longer, that she's out of pain and looking down on me from heaven.

One of the last things she told me was to move on. Not to forget her, but to learn to love again. And here I am, over a year since her death, feeling as if I'm cheating on Mimi by even looking at another woman. I went back to playing a few notes on my guitar, thankful for the fact that getting lost in my music made me forget about the day's troubles.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even notice someone take a seat next to me. Normally I would shoo them away for a reason unknown to them, but today was different. I glanced over my shoulder to sneak a peek at her, only to catch her bright blue eyes staring back at me. I quickly turned away, focusing all of my attention on my guitar. I strummed an angry chord before searching through my guitar case for something, anything, to eat.

Nothing.

It'd been hard to make ends meet after Mimi passed away. Collins had moved back into the loft after Angel died, but shortly after we lost Mimi he took a job teaching computer science at Yale.

He said that he hoped the people over in Connecticut would listen to his Actual Reality theory, that maybe one day he'd make enough money to reverse this dumpy life we're living and open new doors for us. Yeah, tough chance. Muffy went to Yale. And if the others at Yale are anything like Muffy, there's no way in hell that they're going to believe him.

So, with Collins out of the house, that only leaves Mark and I to pay for the rent. And with his job at Buzzline and my pathetic excuse for a salary, which I get from a combination of playing my guitar for people walking by and from giving guitar lessons out of the loft, we can barely make ends meet.

When we realized we were in dire need of another person to help pay the rent, we decided to put up flyers for a new roommate. It's been two weeks since we posted them and we haven't gotten a single sane person to ask to move in. We've gotten druggies, prostitutes, and kids running away from home, but no level headed adults.

Coming back to reality, I realized that the girl who had sat down next to me was now sitting in front of me, staring straight into my eyes again.

"Um…can I help you?" I asked her.

"Uh, yeah. Are you Mark or Roger?" she asked, her voice strong and clear.

"It depends. Who are you?"

"Oh, sorry. My name's Isabelle. Isabelle West, actually. But everyone calls me Izzy."

I stared at her for a second, confused as to why she wanted to know who I was.

"Okay, Izzy. Why are you trying to figure out who I am?"

She laughed. "Well, I saw a flyer down at the Food Emporium saying that a certain Mark and Roger were looking for a roommate. And the address listed on the flyer matches the address on your guitar case." She pointed to a sticker saying If Lost, Please Return To….

I smiled and laughed. "Wow, you must have a good memory, then. You memorized the address?"

She laughed. "God, no. I have the flyer in my bag." She patted her red corduroy bag that was slung over her shoulder and smiled.

I smiled back at her. "Well, you've come to the right place. I'm Roger." I shook her hand. "Roger Davis."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Roger. So can I check this loft out or am I too late? I promise I'm not some drug dealer or hooker or something. I'll pay, I promise."

I laughed. "Don't worry, I wasn't concerned about you being someone like that. And no, you're not too late. The only applicants we've had were, ironically, drug dealers and hookers. Oh, and kids running away from home, but we sent them back to where they started."

She laughed. "Great, then. When can I come by?"

"Um, you can come over now if you'd like. I think Mark's home, unless he's out filming or something."

"Really? Wow, that'd be great. Let me just grab my stuff and we can go, alright?"

"Sure, take your time. I'm in no rush." I put my guitar back into its case and stood up. I peered around the tree and saw Izzy pick up a guitar case of her own. How ironic.

"You play?"

She nodded. "I've been playing since I was fifteen, I think. My dad taught me before he passed away."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Izzy."

My thoughts automatically went to Mimi. She was all I could think about now. Should I tell Izzy about her? Should I keep it a secret? I didn't know what to do. All I knew was that I needed to get Izzy to the loft and introduce her to Mark. There's something about her…I don't know. I just have a good feeling about Izzy. This looks like the beginning of a great friendship.

Or maybe something more.

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A/N- How'd you like it? I hope it didn't stink…like I said before, I'm not too sure of what I think about this yet. Feedback would be great, though. Let me know what I can improve on or what you like about this, please.

-Kait