A/N: I don't know if there's anyone still around to read this, but I was hit by an idea the other day and simply had to write it down. So, if there's anyone out there, I would appreciate a review. But you really don't have to. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Rent

I'm Ready For My Close Up

Vicious Cycle

Mimi was already storming down the steps, her face an angry storm cloud of emotion by the time Roger even got up to slam the door behind her. He stared at the door for a moment before flipping back around to go sit by the windowsill. His fingers ached for the guitar but he wasn't ready to go retrieve it yet. He was too damn mad to trust himself with the delicate strings of his acoustic. He didn't have the money to replace them if they broke.

He and Mimi just had the fight of the century. The fifth one that week, in fact. Roger couldn't understand why they kept having the need to pick at each other. Why did they have to get under each other's skin and twist it around? Couldn't they just love each other and get over it? Apparently not.

Roger supposed it had to do with the drugs, mostly. Mimi continuously promised to get off of them but then inexplicably kept returning to her drug dealer whenever Roger's back was turned. He knew it was hard. He'd been down that road before and he knew the hell recovery could put a person through. But in his eyes, Mimi just didn't seem to have any damn self-control. Roger often wondered if she only told him she was getting clean because it was what he wanted to hear. The thought of her manipulating him sometimes sent him into such a rage that he was not responsible for the words that flew violently from his mouth. Such as times like this one.

Maybe his distance was a problem, too. Roger didn't want to admit it, but he knew that he could be moody and quiet. The opposite of what Mimi needed. Mimi needed someone who would listen to her attentively and tell her jokes throughout the day. She needed someone with a positive outlook and patience that was miles long. That guy wasn't Roger. Not by a long shot.

But, damn! Why did she make him so mad? It was like she went out of her way to piss him off. The rational part of him knew she probably didn't but the angry part of him followed this notion as if it were law. It was her own damn fault and it would always be her own damn fault. Roger refused to feel guilty about this fight. The one that she had started.

She'd come into the Loft, his sacred apartment, and cheerfully asked him how his day was. He'd grunted in reply but when he looked up from his notebook to give her a kiss hello he noticed something odd in her eyes. They were glassy and flat. She was high.

He'd yelled at her, already irritable due to his dry spell that'd lasted all week and the fact that there wasn't enough money for food. He'd called her out for her fatal flaw.

She'd gotten defensive, claiming that she had just needed this one hit but after this she would be done. She'd claimed that it had been a bad day at work and one of the girls overdosed again, her best friend in fact, and she had needed to deal with it her own way. So please, she'd begged, don't be mad. Don't be mad, don't be mad at me.

He'd called her a flake and accused her of being a liar. He said that she would never quit the drugs, not even for him and knowing what he'd been through. He'd suggested that maybe she would have quit for Benny.

She'd called him a bastard and accused him of never believing in her. She'd accused him of never loving her but only using her as someone to ease the pain of April.

He'd suggested, cruelly, that maybe she was right. He'd added that maybe she never loved him either but used him as a rebound from Benny. Her ex-boyfriend. He'd suggested that maybe she used him as an escape from her shitty life.

That was when she finally looked as if he had smacked her in the face. The glassy look seemed to finally be gone from her eyes, for that brief moment of pain, and she'd said she was done. That she couldn't do this anymore. And then she'd left. And he was left all alone.

Roger didn't think he was in the wrong. He thought that Mimi should have never come to see him after getting a hit. He thought that she should take responsibility for her own actions and give a damn about her own life. Mimi wasn't Roger's problem and she never would be.

After five minutes Roger felt cooled off enough to grab his guitar. After ten minutes of playing Roger felt cooled off enough to try to write a song again. After twenty minutes of trying to write a song Roger felt like a jerk. After thirty minutes Roger remembered how much he loved Mimi and was struck by a pang of guilt because of the things he had called her. After an hour, Roger tried to think of a way to try and apologize to her. He could forgive her if she could forgive him. It was their vicious cycle, their destiny, to hate each other and then forgive each other after all.

After ten minutes of thinking, Roger started to write a song again.

………………………………………

The next day, Roger was trying to adjust the phone when Mark found him in the Loft. He glanced at Roger with his legs crossed on the floor, guitar cradled in his lap, and the phone faced towards him on the ground.

"What's going on?" he asked curiously, moving to the table to set his stuff down. Roger glanced up and then glanced back at the phone.

"Apologizing to Mimi," he explained simply before pulling a notebook out in front of him as well. He had the words mostly memorized, but he didn't want to mess this up.

"Good luck," Mark said with hardly a trace of a smile. He'd been trying to keep up with their mood swings for weeks and he was beginning to stop caring. They would take care of their problems regardless of Mark's knowledge of them. He was just trying to keep surviving.

Roger nodded to let him know that he heard before carefully dialing the number to Mimi's apartment. He heard the phone ringing below him and he waited to see if Mimi would answer or not. He knew it was late at night but he also suspected that perhaps she would be too high to answer the phone. When her answering machine picked up he knew she was too high and felt the anger flare up once more. But he let it pass because he loved her too much to let it control him. Not this time.

"Hi, this is Mimi!" her perky voice blared over the phone and Roger had to smile. "I'm not in, so leave a message and I'll give you a call back when I get it. Gracias." Then there was a familiar tone and Roger took a deep breath. He raised his voice so it could be heard over the phone that was on the ground and began to pick a tune on his guitar. He played the wrong chord once but then quickly fixed it.

"I'm sorry for getting so mad," he began to sing shakily. "I know you've got problems and that it's hard for you to bear." He could sense the corniness of the song and tried to sing past it. "Just trust me when I say that I miss you. Even though you only left a short, short time ago. Please let me try to take care of you and let me back in your life again. I can't give up on this. I love you too much to let you go. Mimi, Mimi, Mimi let me try again."

Roger played the last quick chord and then lifted the phone up to his mouth. He wondered if he should say anything to her with words but decided against it. He hung up the phone instead and sat back to wait. He wondered if she could even hear him of she would just get a message full of guitar chords. She would probably know it was him, anyway. He just wished he'd found the time to come up with better words. But it served his purpose well enough.

Roger set his guitar back in its place and fiddled with the notebook before going to place it on the table as well.

He thought he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Then a knock came at the door and he nearly ran over to answer it.

She came into his apartment smiling and her eyes were glass free. They were red from crying last night but she was sober for the time being. She said that she was so sorry.

He told her it was all okay. That it was more his fault than hers. He hesitated, wondering if he should hug her or kiss her or just let her stand there.

She ran to him and let him scoop her up into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist. She told him that she missed him too and that the song was the best one he'd ever written.

He said he hoped it was the best one and then hugged her tighter. He told her again that he was sorry, so sorry.

She clung to him and asked if he really loved her. He told her that he did, of course he did. She said that she loved him too, so much, and that she was going to quit the drugs. He didn't care that he knew it was a lie.

Mimi finally jumped out of his arms and wiped away some extra tears. "Want to come down to my place?" she asked, clutching his hands and telling him with her eyes that she didn't want to be without him tonight.

"Of course," he agreed and followed her without another word down the steps.

He could forgive her, even if it meant another fight later down the road. He would always find a way to forgive her no matter what. As long as she could forgive him too, he would always be there. Somehow.