There will be more chapters to this, i swear. i do not own Rent nor the characters, and yes, i worship Rent and all it is about.
Mimi wandered the halls of the hospital, staring dully at passing patients and staff. Her body felt like lead: heavy, thick, and unfeeling. Behind her, in the chill depths of the hospital, Angel lay helpless on a bed, struggling to force each breath past his lips, flailing weakly in the clutches of AIDS, unable to see or hear his friends as they gathered around him, praying desperately this wasn't the end, that one more day existed in Angel's life. Mimi shuddered and felt nausea rise in her stomach as Angel's face, pale and sweating, floated insubstantially through her mind.
Mimi tried to chase the image away by thinking of other Angels, other forms of her friend that still had strength and joy and life. It was like rewinding a movie, watching highlights of your favorite character in order to distract yourself from the fact that the character died. Angel dancing in Central Park, using the faint strains of music that floated out of a nearby café as accompaniment. Angel buying Mimi a scarf in February, even though that meant that Angel couldn't buy a new pair of drumsticks. Angel watching Maureen's performance with the rest of them, her face alight with the energy of Maureen's words and dances. Angel sitting on Collins's lap, insisting on a kiss before she let him have the beer she had stolen from him. Angel, Angel, Angel. So much of all of them was Angel. What would they do if they lost her?
Mimi flopped down onto a plastic chair that sat near the door of a hospital room, hardly noticing the uncomfortable poke in the back that the badly made chair gave her. As she adjusted herself to avoiding the bump of plastic, she noticed a man in wheelchair who was being wheeled down the hall by a tired nurse. His entire head was bandaged heavily, but he was thumbing through a book vigorously, intent on gathering every bit of information that he could. The cover of the book was flipped up, and Mimi caught a glimpse of a photo of a bus station, with a few words in French written at the top. A bus stop…Mimi felt the halls of the hospital swirling away as she plunged into memory.
Mimi waited at the bus stop, impatiently tapping her foot on the cement sidewalk. She was supposed to be grounded for drinking at a party, like that had mattered to her at all. Still, if she didn't get home soon, her mother would come up with the bland dinner she always prepared Mimi when she was grounded, and find that said grounded daughter had snuck out. And if her mother told her father that she had gone out, then Mimi would be in for a very painful time.
Mimi glanced around the streets. Apart from a skinhead who was sitting on a bench, his hands in his pockets, the bus stop was empty. Mimi ran a hand through her long brown hair, straightening tangles and pulling curls apart. Just as she was about to get her nail file out, the sound of heels clicking on pavement reached her sensitive ears. Mimi looked up eagerly. Maybe it was one of her girlfriends, and that would help alleviate the boredom a bit.
But no. It was Alicia or Jenni or Sasha. Rounding the corner was one of the most glamorous, colorful people she had ever seen. The person had short, shiny black hair, creamy mocha skin, and blue-painted fingernails. The colors of their clothing jumped out at Mimi: a bright purple-green tie-dye shirt with a red jacket, a light blue pleated miniskirt, pale yellow tights with what looked like splashes of paint covering them, and knee-high, high-heeled white boots. Mimi could only stare at the brightly colored figure as they leaned delicately against a sign post, half admiring the makeup that covered their face and half stunned at such…audacity, to wear those clothes all together. For some people, that outfit would look like a clown's favorite combo; for the boy (she now understood that the person was male) it worked perfectly. Mimi had never seen someone who conveyed that much life, that much creativity and beauty in one outfit.
"Wow, you faggots are looking worse everyday," came a voice from the bench. Mimi looked around sharply to see the skinhead, leaning back casually, staring at the drag queen. Mimi could hardly believe him; what bad things could someone see in a person like that? She wanted to stomp over to the skinhead and slap him, wanted to stand up for someone she had never met before.
But Mimi was saved the trouble as the boy, his face and composed, stepped up to the skinhead, maneuvering in the heels a way she never could have.
"Hey boy, you want to know something? And I'm only gonna say it once, so listen carefully." The skinhead and Mimi were staring at the drag queen now, amazed at her daring. The skinhead, while shorter than the boy, looked like he could easily break his back.
"I'm more of a man than you'll ever be, and more of a woman than you'll ever get." The drag queen smiled coolly at the skinhead, ignoring his amazed face. Mimi, who was choking back a laugh, realized with surprise that the bus was moving up the street towards them. The drag queen, turning away from the boy, spied the bus as well and moved to the curb. By the time both Mimi and the boy had gotten on the bus, the skinhead had changed from looking stunned to looking halfway between furious and scared shitless. Mimi noticed, as he paid his fare, the drag queen waved coyly at the skinhead, as though they shared some cute little secret. Mimi laughed again, and lo and behold, before the chuckle had left her throat, the drag queen plopped down next to her, crossing his legs femininely She stared at him, surprised to find that she was happy he had done so.
The boy smiled at Mimi, a nice, friendly, smile, and Mimi heard herself say, "You really fucking got him back there." The drag queen laughed, and Mimi liked the sound: light, cheerful, and pleasant. "Hi, I'm Mimi," she said, suddenly feeling a great urge to get to know this creature, this person who could be what they wanted and defend themselves without shame. The drag queen smiled widely and held out his hand, nails shining in the light from a passing street lamp.
"I'm Angel."
Mimi sighed and lowered her head, staring at the ground. Then, standing suddenly, she resumed her pacing of the hallways.
