Author's Notes: Thank you so much for the reviews ladies and gents, I really appreciate it. FYI: this fiction is very grizzly, I won't hold a thing back when it comes to the character's various stages of grief or Mimi's overdose. You have been warned.
I OWN NOTHING (but this story).
Please read, review and enjoy.
Two
"Tom what is going on lover? Why is Mark so upset?"
Collins didn't know whether to stand or sit. Does anyone really know how to tell anyone something like this? The professor was still skeptical about the whole thing, but why the fuck would Mark lie about something like this? What the fuck was Mimi's thinking? Where the hell was Roger? There were so many questions that needed to answered, ones that Angel would surely be asking. Collins hated Mark for giving him the responsibility of telling Angel. He hated himself for not going about this in a different way. He didn't want to hate Mimi, but slowly it was beginning to creep upon his soul. Why the fuck would she do this when she knew how she was the world to Angel?
"Angel…Mimi…Mimi's…" Fuck. Why couldn't he talk?
Angel's face turned pale when she sensed the tension in Collins' voice. "What's wrong with Mimi?"
Collins cleared his throat and held Angel's face with his hands. "She's gone baby."
"What!" Angel yelped, her voice filling the room. "What did you say to me?"
"Mimi's gone Angel. She's gone love." Collins' voice rang louder to make himself feel sure he had actually said it. Mimi was gone. Mimi was gone. Mimi was gone.
"Gone where Tom I don't understand!" She was beginning to stand up but Collins held her firmly. "We just have to find her that's all."
He nodded his head slowly, a tear falling down his dark cheek. "No Ang, she's…gone. She-"
"No! Fuck you all! Get the fuck away from me!" Angel tore roughly away from Collins walking over to the closet grabbing her sneakers. "Let me see her! Fuck you!"
Collins stood there watching Angel slowly break down, tears flowing freely now. He loved that girl as much as everyone did, she was their fire. "Angel…"
"Fuck you! Fuck all of you…" Collapsing onto the floor, Angel covered her face with her hands scratching at her skin causing welts to appear almost immediately. Collins ran over to her holding her tight as she scratched him trying to get free, she hadn't yet stopped yelling her profanities. "¡Váyase! ¡Lo odio! ¡Consiga el infierno fuera de mí! ¡Déjeme go a Tom!"
Even the two years of Spanish taught Collins all he needed to know; he almost didn't want to know what she saying. "Shhh baby, shhh." He continued to coo words into her ear until her sobs were controlled to a point. "Oh God ¡ayúdame!"
"¡ayúdame! Mimi! ¡ayúdame! ¿Por qué usted me dejó? ¿Usted no se preocupa por mí?" Angel's face was flushed, and she began to have trouble breathing until Collins told her to breathe with him. It seemed like hours but it was really only 20 minutes, 20 minutes of hell.
"I want to see her." Was all she muttered as he stood them both up and walked towards the front door to the loft.
Mark didn't find Roger until he looked into Mimi's bathroom where he was sprawled out, his head leaning back into the tub, high. After a year of withdrawal and hell on earth he resorted back to the one thing he promised all of his friends he wouldn't. Mark tried to shake him, but there was no use, he was gone and he'd be gone for a good while. The film maker paced back and forth waiting for anyone to come get him the fuck out of here. As if someone was hearing his thoughts, Joanne knocked quietly on the door, Maureen's sobs flowing freely outside the door piercing Mark's ears. He'd never seen her cry.
No one hugged hello, no one smiled. Joanne passed Maureen to Mark while she braved the sight of Mimi's lifeless body to clean her up a bit before Angel got there, there was no way Angel would be able handle it. Mimi's eyes were still open, a dull color in her skin but her hair was as beautiful as ever the curls sprawled over her cheetah print pillowcases. The room smelled of Honeysuckle, one of Mimi's secret favorite scents. On the windowsill sat a scented candle that Maureen had bought her, she must have used it to…
Joanne stifled a loud sob as she closed Mimi's eyes, knowing she would never see them filled with life ever again. Roger must have taken the needle right out of her arm and stuck the remainder of the drug into his. Mimi's arms were thin and badly scarred from the years of abuse. Right underneath her right eye was a dark bruise, almost as if someone had…
Joanne gasped loudly not being able control her sobs. "Oh God…" She held her hand to her mouth as she came to a realization at what must have happened earlier that evening. Only donned in one of Roger's t-shirts and some lacey underwear from work, Joanne did her best for Mimi to look as peaceful as she could. Everyone knew that either way, Angel would probably act like they all were about to but much worse. Gently fixing Mimi's necklace, Joanne slowly walked toward the door closing it behind her.
Nodding slightly to Mark who held a hysterically Maureen, Joanne grabbed a wash cloth running cold water over it. She walked to the bathroom and knelt down next to Roger whose eyes were eerily open, pupils completely dilated. He held the needle in his hand, gripping it tightly. Mimi's goodbye gift. Wiping the sweat from his brow Joanne never stopped crying, never stopped sobbing. "Oh God Roger…"
Mark held Maureen for as long as he could before she sprang into Mimi's room staring at her. Nothing was real, and slowly nothing began to matter as she climbed onto Mimi's bed laying her head onto the girl's stomach. The performance artist tightly closed her eyes imagining what Mimi would say if she was alive at that moment.
"Mo, you know you're like a cat I swear…Always rubbing your head on someone for attention…does Joanne like it?"
"Mimi…" Maureen cried into her friends' shirt, staining it with her tears.
The performance artist's eyes were blurred so she couldn't see the two figures that stood in the doorway. But their frames were familiar, yet different somehow. "Get off of her Maureen, now."
Spanish Translations: "¡Váyase! ¡Lo odio! ¡Consiga el infierno fuera de mí! ¡Déjeme go a Tom!" Go away! I hate you! Get the hell away from me! Let me go Tom!
"¡ayúdame! Mimi! ¡ayúdame! ¿Por qué usted me dejó? ¿Usted no se preocupa por mí?" Help me! Why did you leave me? Don't you care about me?