Disclaimer: Don't own RENT. Nothing to do with it.
Summary: You look familiar, your smile reminded me of… I always remind people of…
Not quite the cat Scratch Club. How Mimi and Roger really first met.
Melpomene
Chapter Five
There were footsteps pounding on the stairs. Heavy, frantic thuds that roused Mimi from a restless sleep. She glared up at the ceiling. A man was crying. Pacing. More crying.
Something had happened. But it wasn't really important to her, honestly. Mimi was tired. It was currently 5:10 in the morning and she'd only gotten home an hour ago. All that really was important was that someone was making it difficult for her to sleep.
A man was yelling now, his steps heavy and then a loud thud. Maybe he'd fallen. She laughed under her breath and rolled over. Would serve him right. She pressed her head deep into the pillow and placed her hand over the ear facing the ceiling and tried to close her eyes.
"Mark, you don't understand!" Someone bellowed, loud enough that she could make out every word, her eyes snapping open in surprise.
"She's dead, Mark!"
It was the third night in a row that she had lost sleep due to the other idiot upstairs. He threw things and yelled at Mark and cried almost nonstop. It was sad in a way, but also fucking irritating.
Her last hit was wearing off and she was at that horrible stage right after calm and right before disaster. Stuck somewhere between feeling fine and homicide, Mimi dragged herself out of bed and pulled on her robe. As she walked toward the door, she heard the footsteps move and soon they were pounding down the stairs. She heard another heavy thud and a muffled groan.
Opening her door, a blond man who was quite dirty and sick in appearance sat about a third of the way down the stairs, his head in his hands. She watched him for a moment, her first urge to rip into him about the noise somewhat ceasing beneath pity.
Shaking he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter and lit one for himself. If he saw her, he didn't acknowledge it at all. He looked familiar, but she wasn't quite sure why.
He coughed suddenly and shook with the effort it took. A complete mess, he was. Mark came thudding clumsily down the stairs.
"Hey, c'mon man. Get up. Come back." He said to the dirty guy. He gave Mimi an embarrassed half smile.
"Sorry. He's not having a good time, you know?"
She looked at Mark first and then back at the other man. Her eyes focused on the sore knots of bruised flesh on his arms and his shaking hands. She looked at the way Mark's arm went around his shoulders. Brotherly, comforting. She's dead, Mark!
Oh. She knew.
She smiled back, embarrassed as well, and absently stepped back inside and closed the door.
Because living like we do isn't living at all.Mimi really needed a good hit.