Right, I felt like making a sequel of sorts…still not mine.


It was a windy day; leaves twisted and turned on the ground, my scarf fluttering slightly. I looked up. The sky was clear, a bright blue and not cloud in sight. One could call the day perfect. I shivered slightly in the cold. One would say that nothing had changed in the world. I was still a struggling artist, my camera in my hand, quiet however, compared to the usual clicking and whirring it made when I used it. I still lived in the loft. Benny still hounded me for the rent. I still can't pay for it. To me however, everything had changed. I wasn't alone.

My gaze turned to the ground. Eyes watering from the wind, I took in the headstone that stood in front of me. Angel. It's been four years since she died. I averted my gaze. Collins. I had just visited him the day before in the hospital. We all knew his time would soon come, but Collins wasn't afraid. He'd be with his Angel again.

I felt two strong arms wrap around me. I turn my head and see Roger, and I peck him lightly on the chin. He grins slightly. We turn around and head out of the cemetery. We'd probably find some extra money to get some food at the Life.

MR…MR…MR…MR

Roger and I run down white corridors, our steps echoing through the silence of a hallway at midnight. We both have grins plastered onto our faces. It feels like we'd never get there. It's been a year since Collin's death. He said that we shouldn't mourn him and he'd keep watch. It seems that as time passes a friend or another would pass, leaving those they cared about behind. But it's time's like this…

We barge into the room, nearly knocking the door off its hinges. The two women on the bed glare at us before telling us to come in. We look down. Between them, there's a baby wrapped up in a blanked, the result of dealing with an overly emotional Maureen for nine months. The girls tell me and Roger the name of the baby boy.

"Thomas Angel Johnson-Jefferson"

MR…MR…MR…MR

It's seven years since Angel died, three since Collin's death and a year since Maureen and Joanne moved to LA. I'm still here in New York, but doing better than I've ever done. My movie's been discovered and I regularly direct for a not-as-sleazy-as-Buzzline network. I can pay for food, for rent, for my meds and for Roger's bill. Hospital bill that is.

The two of us were so careful. But I guess that's life. Taking chances and living everyday as our last. Well, now every day could be Roger's last and my second to the last. I'm doing alright, the pills work, and it's just Roger that I'm worried about. I stay nearly every night at his bedside. We know it's nearly time.

MR…MR…MR…MR

I run my hand over the polished wood of a casket. Maureen, Joanne and Tom are in town for a few days. Other than the four of us, there are barely any other people here. Figures in black garb surround the casket, but few are actually in tears. One of them is me. I feel a small hand grip mine. I look down and see Tom, his sweet smiling face staring up at me, still too young to understand what was going on.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I remember that I'd never have his arms wrap around me again. No more of his sweet kisses. No more of his songs. I watch, silent now, as his casket is steadily lowered into the ground. My gaze shifts away, and to the graves next to it, Collins, Angel, and now Roger. Soon, it'll be me. I'm not entirely sure if I can live alone.

"I love you, Rog. Always will."

I'm alone now.

MR…MR…MR…MR

A dark brown casket lays open, inside, the body of a man, loved and cared for, a blue and white scarf and a camera.

Now closed, it is lowered into the ground. Two families surround the grave. The first, consists of his parent's and sister, the other, more of a real family than the first, has two women and two children with them.

MR…MR…MR…MR

I blinked; the room I was in was blindingly white, although it doesn't look like a hospital. I looked up and saw three faces staring down at me, all with amused looks plastered on. My eyes widened in disbelief, before I jumped up and ran to the first figure.

I nearly knocked the two of us down, as I hugged the man fiercely. I covered his face in kisses before laying one right on those sweet lips of his. I ran my hands through his long hair.

"Missed ya, Marky"

"I did too, Rog. Love you."

"Love you too, Mark."

The two of us turned at the sound of snickers. We both had an arm around each other's waists. I grinned at the sight of the two others, both dark skinned but one dressed completely in drag.

"Collins, Angel."

"Now that you two have finished playing kissy-face, come on."

My eyes widened at Collins who snickers as Angel continues.

"What? Do you think we all live in a completely white room?"

I shook my head as we all walked toward some unknown destination. I didn't care. I was home.

Viva la vie Boheme eh?


A.N. Yay! A sequel! tell me what you think by reviewing! Good, Bad? Confusing?