Disclaimer: I do not own RENT . . . unfortunately :(
Mimi Marquez sat toward the back of the classroom, staring intently ahead. Not at the teacher, but at him – Roger. It was the only class they had together. They shouldn't really have any classes together – she was a Freshman and he was a Senior – but she had been able to go ahead a few levels in Spanish class, because she had studied it in grade school (she had neglected to tell the school that she had been speaking Spanish her whole life – easy A). That's how she met Roger. To Mimi, he seemed perfect. His humor, his kindness – his good looks were, of course, a bonus. But he never seemed to notice her. Plenty of other guys noticed her. They approached her all the time. But never Roger, the one she actually wanted.
"Senorita Marquez," the teacher snapped, noticing the glazed over look in Mimi's eyes.
"¿Si, Senora?" Everyone turned to look at Mimi, including him.
"Are you paying attention at all? Or should I save us both the trouble and give you an 'F' on this week's quiz now?"
"I'm paying attention, Senora."
"Then you wouldn't mind reciting the Spanish alphabet for the class, would you?" remarked the teacher, carefully covering the projector so Mimi could not see the answers. Mimi sighed and stood up. After perfectly reciting every letter of the alphabet, she sat back down and waited for the teacher to say something. The teacher just harrumphed and went back to teaching. She saw Roger smirk before turning forward again, which made her duck her head to hide the blush slowly crawling across her face.
Roger, of course, graduated that year, but Mimi never forgot him. Then, four years later, she found out they were living in the same apartment building in Alphabet City. This was her chance; no more waiting for him to notice her, she'd make the first move this time. She waited for the perfect moment. Then, it finally came: one Christmas Eve, the power went out in their apartment building. Mimi smiled and grabbed a candle. She waited in the hall until Roger entered his loft. Then she blew out her candle and knocked on the door . . .
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