Disclaimer: I do not own RENT, it all belongs to Jonathan.

Italics are flashbacks.

Chapter 9

Roger sat on the couch and strummed his guitar slowly, waiting for Mimi to come home. It was around midnight. He loved spending time with her and it didn't always have to be sexual, even though that was quite nice. Ever since that incident last month, he tried treasuring whatever time with her he had left. It was January but there wasn't much snow outside and the chilly air seemed to seep through every crack in the loft. He traced his fingers over the strings and blindly strummed random chords. The phone rang but he didn't feel like answering it. It was probably his or Mark's parents giving their daily lectures on how they've fucked up their lives.

SPEEAKKK…

"IS ANYONE HOME? ROGER, MARK, COLLINS THIS IS AN EMERGENCY PICK UP THE PHONE!"

It was Maureen, she sounded frantic. Roger ran to the phone and picked it up.

"What's going on?" he said quickly.

"It's Mimi, she passed out at work! They're taking her to the hospital now," she said frantically.

"I'm on my way!" said Roger. He threw on his leather jacket and ran as fast as he could.

This time, he wasn't there to say goodbye.

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After getting out on bail, Jake and Crystal returned home. It was the end of December so naturally the apartment was like an icebox. Jake paced around the room and was fuming.

"How the fuck did we get caught! Holy shit I could be doing some serious time! How did they find out?"

He then looked at Crystal.

"It was you, wasn't it? You ungrateful bitch!"

"I didn't! I swear!" she pleaded.

"I don't believe you!" he said angrily.

He charged after her. Crystal tried to run but he grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"You live in my house! You eat my food and drink my liquor! And what have I gotten? Nothing!"

He raised his fist and punched her in the eye.

"Well, I think my payments due!"

He threw her on the ground and pinned her down.

"Jake stop! Please! No!" Crystal tried to wrestle out of his grip but he was too strong. He had one hand around her neck. He ripped off her shirt and pulled down her pants. She was sobbing and in pain. After what seemed like forever he got off of her and said "Tell anyone about this and you'll regret it."

A week later he kicked her out and a girl named Candy moved in.

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March 11th 1:00 P.M.- Eastern Standard Time

Light broke through the windows of the Ryder Community Center. After days of rain the weather seemed promising. The Life Support group was assembled in their usual circle with a few new members.

"Hello everyone. Today we have a new person joining us. Her name is Sherri. So, Sherri, would you like to share your story with us?" Paul asked.

The girl looked around twenty with bleach blonde hair and big hoop earrings. She wore purple eye shadow and red lipstick. Her red dress looked too small for her and provided no protection against the still chilly March wind.

"Well as you know my name is Sherri, and sure I'll tell you my story. I mean no sense in hiding anything right? I'm a prostitute. I came to New York about a year ago to be an actress. Look how great that turned out. I needed to make money and this guy in my apartment complex told me that it would be a great way to make quick cash and to start out. He ended up being my pimp. I'm guessing you all know how I contracted HIV now. In my own twisted way I considered this acting. I could make men believe that I wanted them just as much as they wanted me and act like I was enjoying myself. Well, I guess reality is a lot shittier than the movies."

"Here here," said another member.

"Today I'd like our topic to be reality vs. illusion," said Paul. "Would anybody like to add to Sherri's topic?"

"Yeah I will," said Crystal.

"We're all listening," said Paul.

"I hide in illusion. I never wanted to admit this anyone because it seems so immature but sometimes it's the only way I can escape and deal with everything. Reality happens anyway, we all know that, but for that day, or hour, or minute, I want it all to just go away and have everything stay exactly like it is," she said.

Roger knew that he lived by this too. Maybe that's why he now sucks down cough syrup and buries his f ace in his pillow when he has a fit. Maybe he's just running from the fact that death is catching up with him. He didn't want people to worry about him or get scared.

Mark was at the meeting too, filming the whole thing. After Crystal finished, Paul turned to him and said "Would you like to speak today Mark? You're always filming and it's nice to be heard once in a while."

Mark looked confused for a moment and didn't know what to say. When he finally spoke he said "I'm considered the strong one of the group. I'm always there when people need it with unfaltering courage and compassion. It's just sometimes I'd like someone to hold me up. I feel things just like everyone else. And inside I know I'm weak. I wanted to cry at Angel's funeral. I wanted to scream when I saw Mimi in that hospital bed or Collins on the floor of his apartment, but I never let myself. I live in this delusion that if you don't feel, it can't hurt you and won't happen."

"Mark, I think that because you are the one that will ultimately outlive everyone as long as nothing happens, god forbid, you feel guilty. You feel as if because you don't have any "real problems" that you have no right to feel anything or be depressed, but Mark you're human. Everyone feels things and you have every right to. And I'm sure you're friends will be there for whatever you need," said Paul.

Roger nodded his head at this and felt guilty. Crystal touched Mark's hand and he hugged her. Roger apologized but Mark said "There's nothing to apologize for."

After the meeting, they all walked out into the March sunlight.

"I'm hungry, let's get something to eat," said Crystal.

"How about the Life, I have to talk to them about getting a job anyway," said Roger.

"Well, what are we waiting for then? There's no need for us artists to have to starve," said Mark.

The Life was only a few blocks away and when they got their Crystal hoped she was able to get a job there. She didn't want to see herself at the Pink Cheetah for money.