Author's Note: First of all, muffins and strawberry. . .things (lol Mo) to anyone who knows which McDonald's Mimi's working at. Second of all, anyone who hasn't heard "Open Road" from 1994 NYTW RENT needs to go download it and listen to it. It's sooo pretty (although I don't particularly like Tony Hoylen's voice, but that's beside the point). I listened to it and cried for an hour and a half while I wrote this last night. All right, enough babbling from me. Enjoy.

Chapter 5: It'll Be Okay

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"What's cooking?" I ask, dumping my keys on the counter and inhaling deeply.

"Dinner," Mark answers proudly, "How do you like your eggs?"

"Over easy," I answer, flipping through the stack of mail I picked up on my way in before dumping the whole thing in the trash. What a waste of paper.

"Wow, I'm impressed."

"What?"

"You can even make eggs sound sexy. How'd the job hunting go?"

I smile wearily at him. I know he's only trying to cheer me up, but it's been a long, exhausting day and bad jokes weren't exactly what I was hoping to come home to.

"Good. I got hired at a McDonald's in the city. The pay's not too great, but it was the best I could do and well. . .under the circumstances. . ."

Mark nods. Roger's been in the hospital for six days now, and even if he does recover enough to be released, he'll need intensive around the clock care. Either way, we're in desperate need of an extra income. Even if it will mean working two jobs.

"You sure you'll be able to manage the extra hours?" Mark asks, as though reading my mind.

I sigh.

"Do I have a choice?"

He look so sad and helpless, I have to say something to make him feel better.

"Besides, I'm only a cashier. How exhausting can counting money be? And the McDonald's is right across the street from some theater, so I'll have plenty of interesting people to watch if I get bored."

Mark grins hopefully.

"I guess you're right. I went to see Roger today."

"You didn't tell him where I was, did you?" The last thing Roger needs is to be feeling guilty on my account.

Mark shakes his head and I breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"No. I told him you were helping Collins clean his apartment. HE told me to tell you he loves you. And he wants to see you soon."

I stare at the wall, silently. As awful as it makes me feel, it's almost been a relief being away from Roger the last few days. This way it's easier to hide from reality. I don't have the constant reminder.

"Here," Mark says softly, setting a plate of steaming eggs in front of me.

"Thanks," I murmur, trying to get my stomach to stop churning long enough to think about eating.

"What's wrong?" Mark asks softly, coming up behind me and laying his hands on my shoulders.

"Nothing. I'm just tired."

"Liar." He mutters, rubbing my shoulders gently, "Tell me."

"I-I don't think I can do it, Mark."

"What? Do what?"

"I don't think I'll be able to go on when Roger—" My throat closes up, the tears taking me by surprise. I pull away from Mark and walk across the room to stare out the window.

The sun is starting to set, casting a golden glow over the city. It makes me think about Roger, and last Halloween. I close my eyes, letting the memory engulf me.

"Why? Why does this have to happen to people?" I ask Roger, quietly hanging up the phone.

"What? What happened?" he asks gently.

"Angel. She's-she's sick, Rog. Really sick. Why do things like this have to happen to good people?"

Roger shakes his head and wraps his arms around me.

"I don't know, baby. I don't know. I guess it's like. . .time. A day dawns so beautiful and promising. Anything can happen. But no matter what happens, good or bad, it always has to end. Everything has to end sometime. Even the bad times have to pass."

I struggle to breathe against the pain in my chest. We'd broken up the next day. It'd taken nearly six months for us to fix things. So stupid. So much time wasted. Things have been so different since last Christmas. For the first time in my life I've felt like I actually had something to live for. Someone to come home to at night. But now. . .

I start to cry again, wondering since when I've gotten so weak. I'm twenty-two and my life is over.

"Mimi?" Mark looks so scared it just makes me cry harder.

"I can't do it, Mark. I can't. I'll go back to the way I was before. I don't want that to happen. Please don't let that happen."

Mark comes over and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"Mimi. . .you've changed so much since then. I don't think you could go backwards if you tried."

"But. . .I have nothing now. No talent, no career. . .no dreams. I'm a whore, Mark. That's all I ever was and all I'll ever be."

Mark looks shocked.

"Mimi. . .where did this come from? I thought you were happy with Roger."

That only makes me feel worse.

"I was! But now. . .how do you love someone when you know you're only going to lose them? It hurts too much."

"You're bound to lose anyone you love eventually. No one lives forever. I would think you of all people should know that. Everyone dies every minute of every day. It's hardly like it takes place all at once, in an instant."

"Don't say that!" I protest, "It's too depressing!"

Mark laughs sadly.

"All right then, I won't. What would you like me to do instead?"

"Hold me," I beg, surprising myself. "Tell me it'll be okay. I need someone to tell me it'll be okay."

Mark wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on the top of my head and running his hands up and down my back. I bury my face in his shoulder.

"Shh. . .it'll be okay. It *will* be." He sounds so sure, I almost believe him. "For you and for me. . .for all of us, it *will* be. Life will go on. You'll see. Someday. . .it won't hurt anymore."

"What about Roger?" I ask shakily.

"He'll be fine too. Angel's out there somewhere, making sure he will be. I know it."

The weight in my chest starts to lighten, just a little. I can begin to see a hint of the future through the swirling gray fog that's come down over my mind during the last month.

"Thanks."

"Yeah," Mark says softly, "Yeah."

I lean up to kiss his cheek, but then change my mind at the last second and lightly brush his lips. He stares at me for a moment in shock, then kisses me back. Hard. Desperately. I know I should feel guilty, but somehow it feels too. . .right. I need this. I let myself enjoy it for a few seconds before pulling away.

"Mark. . .we can't."

He nods, blushing.

"I'm sorry," he mutters.

"I'm not."

I glance at the clock. I have to be at the club in fifteen minutes. I sigh.

"I have to go."

Mark nods.

"See you later."

I walk out into the night, my head swirling with a million different thoughts.

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