Mimi sat on the toilet with the lid closed, her head resting in her hands. She sniffed and tried to hold back the tears that were taunting the corners of her eyes.

She hated Roger. She hated him, but she loved him just the same.

Why did everything have to be so hard?

Mimi wiped her eyes and picked her head up, looking around the bathroom. She could probably just kill herself right now, and no one would ever no or care. Suddenly, she became angry. Why did Roger leave his razor right on the edge of the sink? Just to tease her? Just to taunt her with the idea of sliding the razor along her wrist, just like April once did so long ago? And why were the bottles of Aspirin and AZT out? So she could take the whole bottle and close her eyes and never have to worry about Kyle or Terry or Roger or anything ever again?

She slid a hand into the pocket of her sweatpants, pulling out a small bag of powder, half empty; almost gone. But still effective.

Mimi sighed. Of course. The answer to everything.

She leaned forward and turned on the sink faucet, so Roger wouldn't be able to hear anything going on behind the door. She closed her eyes and pressed a pinch of the powder, holding it up to her left nostril. Just as she was about to breathe it in, Roger started knocking on the door.

"Meems? Are you okay in there? I'm sorry about what I said. Come out? Please?"

Startled by the knocking, Mimi began to cough, and choke, causing the powder to fly back into the air.

Coughing, she fanned the small white particles away with her hand, and flushed the rest of the bag down the toilet. Fuck it. She could always get some more at the club.

"Mimi? Can I come in?"

Mimi stared at her reflection for a long time in the mirror before answering. "I'm coming out."

Slowly, she opened the door and slipped through it, coming face to face with Roger.

"Meems," he said softly, placing a hand on her hip.

Mimi moved away from him quickly. "I just want to go to bed," she said, quietly.

Roger nodded. "Okay."

Silently, they retreated to the bedroom, and Roger noticed as Mimi slid into bed that she was keeping her sweatpants and T-shirt on, underneath a sweater, which she rarely did.

"Goodnight," he said, as he reached over to turn out the light.

"Goodnight," she answered, softly.

***

"Anybody home?" a familiar voice called from the doorway the next morning. "I'm back!"

It was Mark, back from visiting his parents in Scarsdale.

Roger groaned as he sat up, and saw that Mimi was already awake, and was carefully beginning to slide out of bed.

"Hey, Meems," Mark greeted cheerfully as she came to the doorway.

Mimi gave him a small smile before slipping into the bathroom and closing the door.

Mark raised his eyebrows. "What's with her?"

Roger sighed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "Mark, I need to tell you something."

"Okay," Mark said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Shoot."

"Something happened…to Mimi…the other night at the club."

Mark was silent.

"She was raped," Roger said, quietly.

They were both silent for a moment.

"Are you sure?" Mark whispered.

Roger nodded. "I found her and took her to the hospital. They gave her a few stitches and she filed a report."

Mark let out a whoosh of air. "Christ," he said softly, shaking his head. "And they don't know who did it?"

"Mimi says she doesn't know his name, but I think she's lying," Roger said. "The police are going to go around questioning people at the club."

"Jesus," Mark breathed. "I'm sorry."

Roger smiled, weakly. "Not your fault." He was quiet for a moment. "How was Scarsdale?"

"Scarsdale? Fine. Who cares about Scarsdale, Rog? This is more important."

"I know…I'm sorry…I just wanted to switch to a more cheerful topic."

Mark gave him a sympathetic smile. "So how's she been?"

"She's…weird. I mean, I know that's expected, after what she's been through…but I feel like there's something she's not telling me. That she's hiding something."

Mark chewed his lip. "I hate to ask this…but she couldn't be…pregnant, could she?"

Roger shook his head. "I was worried about that too. I called the doctor this morning, and he reassured me that from the tests they ran, she's not."

"Do you think you might know who it was?"

Roger shook his head. "No. The only person I know from the club his Terry, and I know it wasn't him." He sighed and drew his knees in towards his chest, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "Mimi really needs us to help her, Mark. She hasn't been saying it, but I can tell. She needs us to support her. We need to help her get through this."

"Of course," Mark said, nodding his head.

Roger grinned, weakly as he sat up in bed. "So…you want me to make breakfast or something?"

***

"I'm going to stick these bottles in the machine downstairs," Mark announced later that afternoon, lifting up a plastic bag filled with old water bottles.

Roger stared at him. "What?"

"So I can get money back in return."

"You're kidding, right?"

Mark shook his head. "Nope. Hey, it's a good way to get extra change. My parents introduced me to it," he grinned. "They have them in grocery stores and stuff, but I think they also have one outside the lobby downstairs. You wanna come?"

Roger shook his head. "Sounds like fun. I'll pass, though."

Mark shrugged. "Alright. Doesn't hurt me."

"I'll go," Mimi said, emerging from the other room.

Roger raised his eyebrows. "You sure, Meems?"

Mimi nodded. "Yeah. I need to get out. Even if it's just downstairs."

"Okay," Roger said slowly, being careful not to seem too overprotective. "You guys will just come back up after, right?"

Mark nodded.

"Okay," Roger said.

"We'll be back in a few minutes," Mark assured him, as he and Mimi slipped out the front door.

***

Mimi scuffed her worn out sneakers across the ground as Mark joyously emptied dozens of bottles and cans into the large green machine, which rattled obnoxiously with each deposit he made.

"I'm going over there for a bit," Mimi shouted over the noise, pointing towards down the hall. "I can't stand that noise."

"What?" Mark yelled.

"I'm going down there for a bit!"

"Oh. Okay!"

Mimi plugged her ears, hurrying down the hall and around the corner, until the loud rattling of coins and crushing bottles had faded.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders tightly, whipping her around.

"Hello again," Kyle growled, pushing her roughly against the wall so that she was facing him.

Mimi trembled. "Let go of me. Mark, someone, HELP ME!" she shouted, even though she knew he probably couldn't hear her over the noise.

Kyle dug his nails into the thin material of Mimi's T-shirt, pressing into her shoulder tightly. Mimi winced.

"Don't worry," Kyle laughed. "I'm not going to fuck you again. I never do the same whore twice."

"Fuck you," Mimi whispered, tearfully.

Kyle pounded his fist into the wall next to her head, and Mimi cried out, startled.

"The police have been questioning me at the club," he said through gritted teeth. "They're pretty suspicious. I think they know that I did it." He dug his arm into Mimi's ribs, making sure she couldn't squirm away. "Now, what I need for you to do is to tell the off. Tell them it wasn't me. That you made a mistake, and it was someone else who didn't work at the club." He wiped her tears away with his fingers. "Will you do that?"

"You're hurting me," Mimi whimpered, as his arm pressed harder against her ribcage, making it hard for her to breathe.

"Tell me you'll get the cops off my back," Kyle said, through clenched teeth, not seeming to care whether or not he was hurting her. "Okay?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" Mimi whispered. "Just leave me alone. Please."

He smirked. "Sure, I will. Just do what I told you. You wouldn't want your Roger to be hurt now, would you? Or that dorky little friend of his with the glasses? Just think of it as protecting your friends." He seemed to turn nice for a moment, stroking her cheek with his hand. Then just as quickly as his mood had changed for the better, he changed back again.

He glanced down at her middle. "Nothing going on in there, now?" he said, jabbing a finger hard into the middle of her stomach, causing her to cry out in pain. "You be sure to take care of that if there is, alright? If you need money for an abortion, don't be afraid to come to me," he grinned, wickedly.

Mimi said nothing.

"I'm glad we had this talk," he sneered, finally loosening his grip on her and shoving her away from him. "And remember what I told you."

Mimi waited until he was no longer in view before she shakily got to her feet, and ran back down the hall, nearly smacking into Mark.

Mark was startled when he saw the state she was in. "Jesus Christ, Mimi, what the hell happened?" he exclaimed, seeing that she was crying.

"I just want to go back up to the Loft," she whispered. "Now. Please."

Mark took her hand in his, gently. "It was that guy, wasn't it, Mimi? What did he say to you? Did he hurt you?"

Mimi quickly shook her head. "Nothing happened. I just want to go home. Please, Mark," she begged.

"Okay," Mark said quickly, retrieving the bag of coins that he had gotten in exchange got recycling the bottles. He wrapped his other arm around Mimi's shoulders, protectively. "We're going home."