Author's note: I wrote and rewrote this chapter so many times. I wasn't sure who the big character would be in this chapter, but after changing it a million times, well, I hope you like it. And if you don't like strong language, don't read any more. Thank you for all of your reviews. Keep them coming!
Disclaimer: RENT's not mine, though I wish I did own it. It's Mr. Larson's.
"Aprillllll!" Maureen yelled while banging on the bathroom door. "Are you okay in there? You've been there for, like, an hour!" When there was no answer, she pushed open the bathroom door and gasped at the sight of her best friend, positively green, throwing up into the toilet. Her now red hair hung limply around her face. "A! What happened?"
April felt way too sick to answer. Her head was filled up, and her stomach felt like someone had beat the crap out of it. She felt dizzy and light-headed. She shook her head at Maureen.
Maureen knelt down next to April. "You need a doctor. I'll bring you there! You look like shit! I'll make Marky drive us." She got up and called Mark, who was filming on the fire escape. "Pooooookie! Get the car! We're bringing April to the doctor's!"
The three Bohemians drove in silence to April's doctor. She had to wait almost an hour-- in which she spent the majority of the time in the bathroom-- to see Dr. Handel. She was poked and prodded and given a bunch of blood tests, then given antibiotics for the virus she had.
After almost three days of the virus, she was fine, but then came the worry about the blood tests that would have the results in two weeks time.
During those two weeks, things went slowly. She did the show twice a week, then spent the rest of the time working at a local coffee shop and spending time with her friends. Oh yes, she also worried all the time about where Roger was and why she kept believing he would stop shooting up.
One night, when April was at the loft alone, a fuming Roger stormed in, high and reaking of alcohol, a bottle of beer in his hand. "You little slut! You've been fucking the Man this entire time?"
She hadn't ever seen him like this before; she started to get scared. "What are you talking about?" she asked slowly and tonelessly, hoping not to piss him off any more than he already was.
"Why are you lying, bitch? Why did the guys tell me that they saw you with him?" He threw the beer against the wall, shattering it into hundreds of pieces.
"Roger! Calm down! I don't know who or what you're talking about!" she cried.
"Stop playing dumb! I should've known you were a little whore!" He took a step closer to where she was standing, causing her to move back into the table.
"Stop it, Rog! I never did anything like that! I'd never do anything to hurt you!"
"Except fuck him! I knew you were goddamn cheating on me!" he yelled, and slapped her hard-- so hard that her head smashed into the edge of the table and collasped onto the floor. Roger stormed out of the loft, slamming the door so forcefully that it shook the room as he left.
April lay there for a long time, hurting too much to get up. There was blood running down her face, from where her head connected with the table. Her cheek stung from where Roger's rough hand hit it. He didn't know what he was doing... he loves me, right? He was wasted and high-- he'd never do that sober. Fuck! I shouldn't have let him go out! It's the drugs that's making him act like this. I know he wouldn't do this to me. He loves me! He loves me! He... Does he love me? Or does he love that bag of powder more?
She began sobbing hysterically, something she hadn't done in awhile. Everything that had been building up inside her finally poured out and she couldn't seem to stop. She could taste her tears and her blood, both running down her face. Her head pounded and she began to feel dizzy and sick, like she was going to throw up.
The loft door opened to someone coming home, whistling. That turned into a gasp at the sight of the redhead collasped on the foor. Collins dropped his umbrella and rushed to her side. He held her in his arms as she cried, slowly building up rage at Roger. He grabbed napkins from his pocket and held them against her cut, hoping to stop the blood flow. He had always liked April, and hated that she had to put up with Roger's addiction. April eventually stopped crying and lay there in his arms, her head buried into his shoulder. "It was Roger, wasn't it?
She nodded. "He- he- he was drunk and high and- and he accused me of cheating on him with some guy!" Silent tears streamed down her face.
"And he hit you?"
She nodded.
"He's really going to get it, don't you worry." He carried the crying girl and laid her down on the couch. "When he gets back, he'll have hell to pay. It's one thing to get high, but it's another to get violent about it." He sat with her, gently rubbing her back as she continued to cry. Collins was never a violent man, but he knew how to fight. As much as he didn't want to, he'd fight Roger if necessary, especially to protect April.
They both heard footsteps coming up the stairs leading to the loft. The steps were heavy, and they could hear cursing. Roger, for the second time that night, came charging into the loft. Seeing Collins holding April completely set him off. "You really are a tramp! You're banging a prick who doesn't even like girls! Only a skank like you would do that!"
Collins got up and stood between Roger and the couch. "That junk has gotten to your head, Roger. And how dare you hit her?" He stepped closer to Roger and forcefully shoved him toward the door.
The wasted musician stumbled but slowly got back up and punched Collins in the stomach. He buckled over, his breath knocked out. Roger thought he had won the fight, but Collins recovered quickly. He pushed Roger, sending him out of the apartment. The two men stood there on the landing before the steps, glaring at each other. As Collins stared at him, he noticed that Roger's eyes were like marbles.
Roger stepped forward quickly and landed a punch right into Collins' jaw. He fell back against the wall, but had quicker reflexes than Roger, so he threw him into the stair railing. Roger fell hard and stayed on the floor on his hands and knees, bleeding and breathing heavily.
Collins ducked into the apartment, locked the door, and dragged the table in front of it, convinced that the enraged junkie couldn't set foot inside. He felt blood running down his face and into his mouth. His stomach felt like there was a gaping hole in it. There was no doubt in his mind that there would be bruises. He went into the kitchen, cleaned off the cut on his jaw, and got an ice pack. When he got back into the living room, April wasn't there. He checked her room, Mark's room, his room, and the bathroom, but she wasn't anywhere.
She was on the fire escape in the pouring rain, shaking heavily-- from cold or crying, or both. She always found that the rain soothed her and made it easier to think. Roger doesn't love me. He loves those stupid drugs. He wouldn't hit me otherwise. He wouldn't hit Collins if he didn't love the junk above all things.
"April?" She didn't respond, but stared at the black nothingness in front of her. "April, you're gong to get get sick out here." Still no response. He stepped out into the rain and knelt beside her. "Please go back inside? I don't want you getting sick. You don't need that."
She rocked back and forth, teeth chattering loudly, water dripping down her face. "I don't care."
"Don't say that."
"I don't care if I get sick, okay? It doesn't matter anymore! Roger doesn't love me. Why is there a reason to live?" she asked him and the wet city of New York over the sound of rain and thunder.
Collins gasped. "April, chances are he didn't know what he was doing. Drugs and booze will make a person do crazy things. I'm sure he'll get over this stupid addiction of his." Though what he really wanted to say was, "Roger's an asshole. Dump him before you get hurt even more than you are now!" Why did I just defend him? But he knew the answer. It was only to calm her down.
She looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Do you really think so?"
He sighed. "Actually, I don't know. Roger could have so many things going on in his head. I don't know he might do, or if he knew what he was doing. Now, let's go in." He helped her back inside and immediately got her a towel. "Go get dried off and go to bed. I'll make sure no one comes into the loft."
April went into her room and quickly changed into pajamas, then came right back out. "I don't want to be alone."
"I don't blame you," he mumbled to himself. "Okay, then you can have my bed tonight, and I'll be here on the couch to keep Roger out. We'll fix everything tomorrow."
April crawled into Collins' bed and instantly fell asleep.
L.M. Ward-- Thanks for your review! I'm glad that you liked my Mimi introduction!
Born2Bbad-- Yes, Roger is a naughty boy! But he, of course, turns around by the start of the show! I'm glad you like it!
Okay, folks, one more chapter! Yes, just ONE MORE. And then it'll all be over. So please review!