Still Life

Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT, nor any of the characters contained therein.

Roger strummed his guitar, frustrated. He hit another wrong note, and threw it angrily down on the dilapidated sofa. He stood up and stalked angrily to the kitchen, wrenching open cupboards and scowling fiercely.

"Why is there never any food in here!" He yelled, slamming the cupboard door shut. Mimi narrowed here eyes at him.

"Because you didn't buy any, Roger." She said, hands on her hips. He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out.

"Fine, whatever." He said, and walked to the door, opening it, and almost tearing it off its worn hinges. He grabbed his sweater and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Mimi sighed and sat down, placing her hands over her eyes. She absent-mindedly stirred the tea in front of her, trying not to focus on her blinding headache. She heard a knock at the door, and jerked her head up.

"Who is it?" She called out, wearily, and rose to answer the door. She pulled it open, and found a despondent Roger on the other side, his green pullover soaked through. He ran his hand through his hair, blonde spikes mussed and standing on end, water running down his face. He smiled, and looked at her, ruefully.

"It was raining out," He said, softly. He looked down at wet jeans. "I got wet." He looked at her, hesitating, and she smiled, and hugged him. He held her close and breathed in the scent of her hair. He felt his eyes begin to water, and instinctively stiffened. Mimi felt him pull away, and dropped her arms to her sides.

"What's wrong?" She asked him, gently. Roger looked down at her, and stroked her hair. He smiled, wobbly, and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know." He confessed, as his eyes got brighter with unshed tears. "I don't know." He said again, softer. He stroked her cheek, and smiled again. "I love you." He whispered, softly. "I don't know what's wrong with me…I haven't felt this strange since…" He stopped abruptly. Mimi stared at him, bracing herself.

"Since what, Roger?" She asked, careful to keep her tone neutral. He refused to meet her eyes.

"Since April died." He finished, bluntly. She had been expecting it, but it still hurt.

"You feel like you lost him." She told him. "You need to see him again." Roger looked away, fighting to maintain his composure.

"It's so hard." He said, voice thick. She squeezed his hand, sympathetically.

"No day but today." She said, and leaned into his side. He put his arm around her, and they sat together.

Joanne sat in her car, outside the hospital. She curled her hands around the steering wheel, and breathed deeply. Her hands began to shake, and her face crumpled. She began to cry, and leaned forward, placing her head on the steering wheel. Her shoulders shook with grief. Maureen had taken the subway home, and there was no one to comfort her. She heard a knock on her window, and looked up to see a familiar blonde-haired cameraman, complete with striped scarf. She rolled down the window. He grinned.

"Mind if I ride with you?" He asked. He handed her a tissue, which she accepted gratefully, dabbing at her tears.

"Not at all." She smiled back, and he got in the car. He grinned playfully at her, and she grinned back, and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and they pulled out of the parking lot.

A/N: Ooooh, symbolism! Is it friendship…OR IS IT MORE? Or am I just in a really weird mood and trying to trick you all? Only time will tell. Well…time and your feedback, possibly. That's how I like to leave things until I'm sure of the direction I'm going to take—tantalizingly ambiguous! Actually, now that I'm looking back at this, I just remembered that Joanne is most definitely a lesbian, so there's no chance of Mark/Joanne. Heh, funny how some things escape you late at night. Sorry! They would make a good couple though, wouldn't they? Well, if either Mark got a sex-change or Joanne suddenly became straight or bisexual. sigh If only, if only…

Koishii-Kitsune-Akira: I hope you can imagine it! It's sort of a shtick-y thing, but I tried to keep it semi-realistic. Oh, and by the way—is the "Akira" in your name related to Akira Kurosawa, the Japanese filmmaker? Lauren: I was on a school trip when I first saw RENT. Blew all of my money on merchandise. Ridiculously-overpriced merchandise, none the less! Thanks for the comments on Collins, he's a sweetie and fun to write. He's over-looked so often that it's fun to play with his sense of humor and give him some material. He really writes himself, you know. ;)

Harper's Pixie: Heh, Nurse Ratched is the name of the nurse from hell in the play/book One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. This Nurse Ratched didn't order any superfluous lobotomies for anyone, but she does have a heart of coal, doesn't she?

Dauthi: Bonny, you managed to work through the whole story pretty fast, you sneaky devil, you. Muchos propos for the reviews. Oh, and I heart Roger just because as well. He's just so heartable!

As usual, thanks for the reviews, for reading, and hopefully you'll review again! I always appreciate it when you do!