This chapter is a whole lot longer than the first one. Because I know how much you all loved the first one. So come now, spread the love. Gimme some LOVIN'!

Oh my god. The first words that had Mimi had spoke all day. The music pounded in the background of the seedy club and Mimi could hear the women outside the bathroom, changing clothes, talking about boyfriends, anything to keep their minds off life. Oh, my God. The little blue plus sign burned into her mind, as it had done almost two years earlier. If her life was so full of positives, why was it so miserable? This can't be. This won't be. She couldn't move and she did not wish too. She just sat there, staring at the little test that she held in her hands. She was on soon. She would have to stand in front of all those men who cared about nothing, cared nothing about her or anyone. Cared about themselves.
Mim didn't cry. If she had cried with everything that had gone wrong, she would be out of tears long ago. It just made no sense any more. But somehow, this seemed different. It didn't affect only her, it wasn't just her secret little problem. She couldn't keep it a secret like that.
A thought crossed her mind. She could always get rid of it. No one would have to know. Another dirty little secret. But... no. No, she couldn't. It was her fault, not the child's. Child. Oh God. Not now, she was too young. But old for her age. She recalled those words she had spoken so long ago and wished she had not spoken them. She was 21. She should be graduating from college, having parties, getting drunk and thinking about her future. Instead, she had this. No future.
I have to go. She said to herself and stood up. She left the bathroom, the test clenched in her fist so tightly her hands began to bleed again. I have to go. She repeated to herself as people tried to interrupt her path to the back door. She continued on and on, right out the door and on to the street. Now what?
Mimi stopped. The rains had stopped, but it was still bitter cold. She could go home to Roger... She almost laughed at herself for that thought. She had nowhere to go. She was alone again and it was her responsibility. Roger couldn't do it for her. She went to the one place she knew.
Her hands hesitated again above an identical doorknob, but the opened it without her telling them too.
Mimi! Wow, long time no see! What's... Mark trailed off as he studied her distraught expression. What's wrong?
Mimi couldn't speak. She was afraid what might happen if she opened her mouth. Instead, she just thrust the piece of plastic into Mark's chest. He took it tentatively.
Oh, God. He said, visibly paling. He bit his knuckle in thought, in comprehending.
What are you going to do?
Mimi said nothing, just shook her head. Shrugged. She came here for help, not to be interrogated.
Well, there is always...
Mimi interjected, knowing what he was about to say.
...Okay, well you could keep it. Mimi just looked at him. It was her child. It would inherit her faults. All of them. Oh, right. Oh, God. Mark was the one to shake his head this time. You have to tell Roger.
NO! I can't! I don't even know if it's... if it's his... Mimi trailed off, her voice beginning to betray her. Mark's eyes widened.
He doesn't have to know that. How far along are you?
I don't know... a month maybe....
You have to tell him, Mimi. You know you do. She shrugged. Tears stung in her eyes. She forgot how much they burned. I'll help.
Thank you, Mark. Before the tears even began to fall, Mark had embraced her small frame. He hugged her tightly. We'll get through this. I know we will. We've gotten through life this far, right? We can get through anything now. Mimi laughed bitterly.
He asked, perplexed.
Oh nothing, She said, wiping the silent tears from her eyes. That just sounded like something Angel would say. Mark smiled sadly.
Thanks, Mimi. He hugged her again, and she felt the fabric of his wool knit sweater against her face. You can stay here tonight, if you want. If you're not ready to go home, you know. He said after a few moments.
No, no I can't. I have to face him. I have to tell him. But I may take you up on your offer if things go as I think they will. She was never aware of opening her mouth and speaking these words. Just all the sudden she heard them coming from someplace distant and she realized later that it was her who said this. She realized when she was waving good bye to Mark and heading up the stairs to their flat.
She could run away. That was always an option. She'd die and it would die with her. Together, intertwined in a way she and Roger never could be. But the part of her that remembered how lonely it was as a child to be alone in that big scary house told her hand to open that doorknob. She began to become aware that she wasn't in control anymore. She was a pawn to her mind's plans.

Hey baby! Guess what? Roger came bounding into the kitchen, beaming.
She tried to match his enthusiasm.
Someone hired me! I'm playing a gig this Saturday, and we could get almost $100 from it!
That's great! She kissed him lovingly. She did love him. She had to.
Yeah, I know! So how was your day?
Her smile wavered. She had to tell him. Had to. Now, now was her chance. But then he would be mad, and he would kick her out and she would have nowhere to live and that would be the end of that. The room began to spin in front of her, almost as it did when she got high. But this time it wasn't enjoyable, it didn't make her feel relieved. No, it made her feel sick.
Something wrong? You just got really pale. Roger's voice came from afar and she could hear herself dismiss him. No, she wanted to say. No, help me. I need you. Her legs carried her clumsily across the room. They felt like twigs, if she stepped to hard, she was afraid they would shatter.
You sure... you're all right? Roger said, grabbing her arm. She could tell what he meant. He thought she was using again.
She wanted to go back to Mark's. He was so easy to tell. She tripped over her own two feet and began to fall, but Roger caught her. He lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom.
He placed her gently on the bed, but instead of deftly using his fingers to undress her, he stood above her, glaring down.
Tell me, Mimi. Tell me the truth. Where were you? She could detect a note of worry. She knew he worried if she was sick. He didn't want to lose her again.
Mimi could hear herself dismiss him again. Suddenly, his gentle expression changed into one of fury. In a flash, he pinned her arms to the bed and squeezed them so tightly it hurt. She made a sound of pain and shock combined, but he paid no attention.
TELL ME. He said through gritted teeth. He was so close to her face she could have counted the hair of his stubble. If she wanted to. One... two...
Nowhere, Roger. God. Seventeen, eighteen...
Mimi, I'm sick of this. Don't you dare lie to me. TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU WERE! Thirty six, thirty seven... DO YOU HEAR ME? He shook her with each of his words, to punctuate them with an extra little something. His grip tightened and Mimi could feel his fingernails digging into her skin. She lost count.
Yes, Roger. I hear you... She was surprised to find that what she was thinking, she said. She was in control again. It frightened her.
THEN ANSWER ME!
Oh God, Roger, don't be mad. White knuckle terror. She began to wonder if she would pass out.
ANSWER ME! He raised his hand to smack her across the face and Mimi turned her head in preparation.