February 26

Good tip night last night. How good? I haven't told anyone yet, but I made over $1000. Big group of drunken businessmen... the older guys at the club tend to like me. I make them feel virile again. Same as I did to James, I guess, I don't know... Anyway, that's why I haven't told anyone yet... Roger would get mad if I told him why.

Plus, it's early and no one's awake yet. (I just couldn't sleep.)

My goodness, I just read over what I wrote yesterday... It's a good thing I was just recounting the past rather than writing about a current event. Otherwise whoever's reading this would be calling Social Services on my family about now. I suppose they still could... some of my siblings are still there... my nieces and nephews... in the crappy little apartment. God.

I'm sorry. My last year of high school. I met Riley Delany. He really was a man... I was 15 and he was 18... just hadn't seen the need to graduate yet. We had classes together (like I said, I graduated early, regardless of how many people think I dropped out) and, God, I wanted him more than anything.

He was a rich boy (that's originally what drew me to him) but he also had this whole... danger to him. $400 leather jacket. I guess he was like me, wanting to break the stereotypes. I didn't want to be the wild, stupid, poor little Latina girl and he didn't want to be the bored, preppy, Harvard rich boy. Silly that I let him influence me into what I didn't want to be. Maybe I was just too young.

Anyway, I don't remember the first time we talked or who asked who out. But I do remember our first date. He took me out to a real, nice restaurant and then afterwards he... took me back to his house. His parents were on some trip and Mamá wouldn't notice that one of us wasn't there-not even her Mimi-bebé. It was my first time. And my first thought was that this was what I didn't want to be. I hated myself for it.

On my 16th birthday my best friend found me a doctor that wouldn't talk to Mamá and I got on the Pill. Riley didn't like condoms. I respected that, but I couldn't get pregnant. I couldn't be my mother.

Two days after graduation I moved into an apartment Riley's parents paid for with him. I think, in a way, Mamá was glad to see me go... one less person for her to worry about. Besides, I was going to be famous. Going to be a big musical theatre actress. I went to auditions all over the place-I was sure it would be my big break soon. So was Riley. That's why he wouldn't let me work. After all, I had a lead in my school musical! Diana Morales in A Chorus Line! Look out New York City!

New York City could have cared less. School musical, so what? I had no formal training and next to those girls, I was absolutely nothing special.

I also had no money. Riley didn't like me to work-he didn't like to work either. We lived off the allowance his parents gave us. They were convinced we were deeply in love and going to get married. They also adored playing surrogate parents to the poor little minority girl... made them look good to their friends.

Not that I saw much of that money. Most of it went to support Riley's habit. Now, when I moved in with him, I knew he did drugs. That "senior year" we went to parties in the East Village that his graduated friends threw all the time. He smoked up, did heroin a few times and I sat around, drinking Diet Coke, drove him home then did whatever he wanted at night. And, well, what he wanted most often was... me. Even with all that, I didn't realize he had an addiction until awhile after we moved in together. He lost all want to hide it by the end of the first month, he even started shooting up at home. God... I remember once... he hadn't had any for... three days, I think, and his hands were shaking too bad to melt the heroin himself. So what does he do? He has his 16-year-old girlfriend melt and inject the fucking heroin for him. Disgusting. The sad thing is, I don't think I even realized it was bad then. You'd have to read the diary to be sure (the one with the butterfly on the cover) but I really don't think I did...

On my 17th birthday I woke up alone on a dirty futon with all manners of life at its worst around me. Needles, dirty clothes, vomit, crumpled food wrappers. And, next to my head was a white baggie full of white powder, Riley's "favourite" burnt spoon, a lighter and a needle. Written on the baggie was "Happy Birthday, Babe".

Amazed me at the time that he gave up that much smack. I realized later that that must have been why he never showed up that day. Big check must have come from Mommy and Daddy so he "splurged" on his girlfriend then went out to celebrate.

At age 17, Mimi Marquez spent her birthday alone, trying to clean up the apartment her 19-year-old boyfriend had trashed long ago. At 17 and 7 hours, Mimi realized she couldn't keep this up. At 17 and 8 hours, Mimi had found the money from Riley's parents he "hid" and packed up her things. And at age 17, 8 hours and 32 minutes, Mimi Marquez tripped over Angel Dumott Schunard's plastic pickle tub on Avenue A.

And currently, Mimi's boyfriend is screaming at her that she's been locked in the bathroom for half an hour and he needs to shit. Ever charming, my Roger, isn't he? Next time, I need to find a better place to hide out and write.

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Author's Note: Hmmm... I'm not entirely sure what to say about this chapter. I like the idea of Riley... and the Mimi past concept is a little different from what I'm normally seen, so I enjoy that. ;)

Disclaimer: Mimi Marquez, Roger Davis and Angel Dumott Schunard are all products of the genius of Jonathan Larson, while Riley, his parents and friends are all products of... well... me.

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