A/N: Hello world. I really haven't posted anything in the longest time, you can blame it on school. Specifially, standardized testing, inane science projects, drama practice every day until 5, none of which are helped by 4 pointless evacuation due to nonexistent suspicious gas odors. Anyways...hope you like! ;]

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

--------------------------Pretend-there's-a-line-break-here---------------------------------

Why had she come to this city? Why did anyone come to New York? In the hopes that maybe, just maybe, they would make it big, strike it rich, and escape to a life better than their own. Mimi Marquez had secretly wished for this, not that she would ever admit it. But now…now she was just a broke-down dancer in the city or broken dreams. And every day, a disease was slowly weakening her, destroying her from the inside out. And the only thing keeping her from eviction was her landlord/married boyfriend's questionable favor of her. And her real-if you could call it that-boyfriend was moving halfway across the country just so he wouldn't have to look at her. And her best friend was dead.

Mimi trudged up the staircase leading toward the roof. She soon reached the trapdoor. She thrust her body into it, but her small frame crashed against the metal door with little effect. It took her three tries to get it open, and she could already feel a bruise developing on her shoulder where it had collided with the door.

The rooftop was littered with discarded remnants of past residents' lives- old couches, ragged stuffed animals, blankets, assorted chairs, etc. Mimi picked her way through the junk until she reached the far side. She leaned against the low wall, her back to the city street below.

After a few seconds, the silence (or what was as close to silence as you could find in New York) got to be unnerving, and she took out a near empty pack of cigarettes. Mimi shook one out, and reached in the pocket of her coat. She came up with a plain red lighter. It had been a gift from Roger. He had given it to her soon after they had officially become a couple. 'In case I'm not around to lend you a match…or four,' he had offered awkwardly.

Once a curl of smoke rose from the tip of the cigarette, Mimi pocketed the lighter and took a deep, slow drag. She held her breath. One…two…three…and blew out the smoke. She turned around and leaned on her elbows, looking out at the city.

When she had first gotten the city, Mimi loved looking at it. Just looking at it. Sure, it wasn't the shining utopia some made it out to be. But the city had its own kind of magic, a unspoken promise of magic and excitement- or so she had thought. But right now, she was sick of it all, the graffitied walls, the streets filled with litter, every alley occupied by bums or pimps or drug dealers.

The place sixteen-year old Mimi Marquez had come to find didn't exist.

So what was she doing here?

As Mimi searched for the answer, her mind drew a blank. Instead, an idea was taking hold. Get out, while she still could. Leave before she was turned completely helpless. She could leave tonight. She would turn her back on the empty building filled with empty people, and never look back.

Excitement rose, and Mimi hurriedly dropped her cigarette. She briefly watched it smolder on the dank ground, then scampered past it.

In a matter of minutes, she had reached her room. An old suitcase lay nearly forgotten in the corner of her closet. She took that it, and threw it open on her bed. She surveyed the messy apartment with distaste. What should she bring? Just a few changes of clothing, a hairbrush, the essentials. She didn't want to bring anything else. A fresh start was exactly what she needed. The small suitcase was filled quickly with personal care items, so Mimi dug out a duffel bag, too. In it, she threw some CDs, a few bottles of nail polish, and a tattered book. On top of the dresser was a photograph in a silver frame. It depicted all seven of them- her, Roger, Mark, Collins, Angel, Maureen, and Joanne. The picture had been taken outside the Life Café, following one memorable night filled with songs about emus (Maureen's new animal of choice), impromptu renditions of 'Candy Man' from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and many, many mugs of beer that went unpaid for. In it, Roger had his arm wrapped around Mimi, who, in turn, had hers around Angel's waist. Angel was nestled into Collins and holding Mark's hand. Mark had been kneeling on the ground, and Maureen and Joanne had been cozying up to each other on the end. They all looked happy. And just look at us now, Mimi thought bitterly. After a moment's hesitation, the picture was tossed into the bag as well. A few more things, and that was it. Three years and half years of Mimi's life could be sorted through and appraised in under ten minutes. Shaking off the feeling, Mimi hefted the bag, grabbed the suitcase, and started out the door.

Mimi almost went to tell Benny she was leaving- he might as well start advertising the open apartment- but immediately decided that he was considerably low on the list of the people she wanted to talk to at the moment.

It was cold outside; winter was already starting to set in. Thankfully, a taxi soon took mercy on her, and stopped. Mimi opened the door and tossed the duffel bag on the opposite seat. She lugged the suitcase in and was about to get in herself when something caught her eye.

Collins was walking down the street toward her building, eyes cast downward, hands shoved in his pockets. He must have been going to see her.

Mimi couldn't believe it. She and Collins were close, but she had figured he wouldn't even want to see her after Angel's funeral. Afterward, Mimi had realized how cruel she and everyone else had been, choosing the worst of all possible days to pick a fight. On the day he had to bury his Angel, Collins had also had to listen to them squabble about their petty issues, disrespecting and altogether forgetting about their fallen friend. When she was safely at home, hidden away behind the thick walls, Mimi had finally broke down and cried. She cried for Angel, poor Angel, who deserved to outlive them all but who's life ended in the worst possible way. She cried for herself a little, because a whole world of who she was, what she meant to someone else, was gone. She cried a lot for Collins.

But somehow, Collins was looking for her, when Mimi wouldn't have blamed him if he had never spoken to he again.

Just before he went inside the apartment building, Mimi called out to him. "Collins?"

He turned around, not having expected to see her there. "Meems? What are you doing?" His voice was still weak, hoarse. The very sound caused a spasm of pain to course throughout Mimi's body.

She cleared her throat. "Um, nothing…nothing." She whipped back around, retrieved her things from the cab, and muttered a hasty 'sorry' to the driver. He promptly sped off, leaving Mimi standing on the curb with a whole lot of explaining to do.

"Are you going somewhere?" Collins asked, indicating her bags.

Mimi tried to think of how to answer. Looking at him, she realized something else. She was taking the coward's way out. Turning her back on her problems and hoping they would all go away. Again, she was being so selfish. Mimi hadn't even considered how her leaving would affect Collins or the rest of them. She hadn't even stopped in to say goodbye to Mark, who was positively torn up after Angel's death and Roger's abandonment.

She hated New York. She hated it for all of its unfulfilled promises and painful memories. But she would never be able to leave it. She had found friends, a family of her own. Like it or not, Mimi had too many ties to it. She couldn't leave the city.

"No," Mimi answered definitively, looking straight into Collins' uncertain eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. Do you wanna come in?"

A/N: Eh, sorry for the rather lame ending, I couldn't think of anything else. Still, I hope you enjoyed, and as always, reviews would be fantastic. :]