Okay, so I was suppose to update it later, but I changed my mind. :D Even though it's short, it's satisfactory

Disclaimer: I don't not own RENT, blah, blah, blah, and a band aid for my knee

Roger slowly plucked the strings of the guitar. He felt the wood and wanted so badly to shrivel up with it. Why did Thom's teacher have to April's sister, out of all the people in the world?

Roger looked out the window, it was around eleven o'clock at night and the city was still going. Roger heard Collins close the door and he looked up at him.

"They all asleep?" Roger asked him.

"Think so. Might wanna check up on Mimi in a little bit though."

Roger sighed and plucked a string. "Hey man, you alright?" Collins asked him. Roger looked at Collins, a long time survivor of AIDS. Even though he had AIDS for over ten years, he was going great. He had a job at Columbia and started an organization for people living with AIDS, called Angel's Gifts.

"You know that Ms. Hong chick or whatever?" Roger asked him. Collins nodded. "She's April's sister."

Collins looked at him. "Wow, I haven't heard that name in a long time."

"I…I don't know how to act around her tomorrow. I mean, when April died, Mimi came into my life, and…I know I loved Mimi so much more, but it's hard. To face someone who was so close to April and tell her that I never worked the courage up to ask her to marry me, when I asked someone else."

Collins laughed. "Oh god, here comes the PMSing male again."

Roger froze and glared at Collins. "What?"

Collins laughed. "Yay, we nicknamed you that."

"You nicknamed me the PMSing male? Why?"

Collins was laughing hard now. "'Cause you were the PMSing male. Everyday even more PMS and well, Mark and I couldn't resist…"

"Wait," Roger asked, trying to comprehend this. "Mark calls me that too."

"Yeah man. He came up with the PMSing part."

Roger turned red and stood up. "Thanks for helping me out Collins."

Collins smiled and stood up. "No sweat. Take it easy, ya hear?"

Roger and Collins hugged and then Collins left Roger alone with his guitar. He weakly played Musetta's Waltz, having no energy to play it passionately. He smiled and started an acoustic. The notebook was in front of him and he took it away.

Silver jeans and rubber were her favorite things

Exclude anything tiny and filled with lace

She watched the sky that swiftly passed her by

Keeping up her mind and her sight

Softly singing lullabies that carry through the wind

Now all gone and forgotten in the mind

But she'll keep hangin' on

Even though she can't wake with the dawn

Oh, holding me,

Oh, softly sing

Oh, softly sing

The words my heart

Roger stopped and admired the words on the paper. He hadn't written a song in forever and having new words on the paper that he liked was refreshing. He ran a finger through his long hair and sat the guitar down.

"There's always tomorrow." Roger quickly wrote that down and started to write away.

"There's always a tomorrow."

All of those were her favorite words

Her excuse to escape from things

That now she knows it's too late

Never goin' back to that world of hers

Gone like the golden leaves of fall

Keep your eyes open so you can walk and crawl

See the word from the eyes of two,

Just like the way she use to see…

Oh, and the PMSING male thing, is copyrighted by me and Scarfy. Don't use it!