This is Alex here, with another installment of this fic that has a really long title, to where I can't even remember it lol! Please support a fellow writer and review, and I promise this will get better. Promise.

I do not own Rent or Twilight


(Angel's Perspective)

I beat on furiously on my ten gallon plastic pickle tub that serves as a drum, banging the edge on the hard concrete with my foot.

My face is crinkled up in concentration, something I don't need to do unless I want wrinkles on my precious face. A random person walks by and tosses a quarter on my tub.

I pick it up and put it in my pocket. "Merry Christmas" I say before continuing to beat on my drum again.

Today was a wonderful, awesome, great day, not because it was Christmas Eve, but also because I made $17.50 tonight. I continue to beat, using a metal trash top as a cymbal, hoping to attract more income.

COUGH COUGH.

I stop, intent on listening. Nothing. Oh well, although I could have sworn I heard something or someone. I go back to beating on my pickle tub.

COUGH COUGH.

Okay now I know I had heard something that time. Me and my inquisitive personality get the better of me. I sometimes do reckless things but oh well, I can't afford to live another day with regrets.

I pick up my pickle tub and backpack and start searching for that sound again.

COUGH COUGH.

I head down a forsaken dirty alley, one that needs much cleaning. I head down the forsaken alley, but its not one that's not familiar to me.

I walk about half way when I see a body, slouched over against a wall. I quicken my pace, but wary still. But when I see it's a brutally beaten man, all reason flies out the window as I run to try to help him.

"Oh my God, Are you okay Honey?" I look at his face. Blood covers his mouth and nose, his jet black goatee glistening with blood.

"I'm afraid so," this unknown man, which I had a strange attraction to help, let out a shaky sigh.

"Did they take anything or…?" I inquire, seriously afraid for the well-being of this man.

He looks at me, and instantly his wide brown eyes capture my heart. I had never seen such beautiful brown eyes, even when they were filled with uncertainty and pain.

What is it about this man? "I didn't have any money, but they took my stuff."

I take out my towel hanging from my belt and try to wipe some of the blood off his face. He holds out his hand, stopping me from proceeding.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." He says, touching his nose again. Well, duh of course you are not fine, you just got mugged. I blurt out and hold my hand out to help him, not even thinking of my actions.

"I'm Angel." He looks at me quizzically, then looks at my waxed eyebrows and dismisses it.

"Angel?" this man questions skeptically. He looks down at his hand, covered in his own blood, drying with a burgundy cakiness.

"Friends call me Collins. Tom. Tom Collins."

Tom Collins? Like the drink? Now that's a weird name, but I don't judge. Tom Collins… it seems to fit him. Well, he trusted me to give me his name, a complete stranger.

"Come on," I say nodding my head in the direction of the street. I carefully pull him to his feet.

"Ahhh, sssss" he hisses as he stands upright.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

We start down the alley, but I don't want to rush him, but I kinda have somewhere to be.

"We have to hurry, I have a life support meeting to go to." I say as I support him. He looks at me.

"Life support?" I look at him back, "Yeah it's for people with AIDS, people like me."

Oh my God! Why did I just say that! Now he's probably going to run away from me! Stupid! Stupid! I freak out inside as I await his reaction.

"Me too." Wait, did he just say me too? On the outside, I was completely calm, but on the inside I was totally freaking out.

Omigod! He has AIDS too? How did he get it? Did he do drugs… no probably not, he didn't look strung out. How did he get it?

I babbled on to myself as I led him down to my apartment flat.