Confessions: Mimi

"Okay. We're set. Don't forget your name, the date, and the time."

"Um… okay. Its October 27th about… 7:30, and I'm Mimi Marquez."

"You forgot Eastern Standard Time."

"God, sorry, Mark. Its 7:30 pm, Eastern Standard Time. What's your first question?"

"What's your whole name?"

"You had to ask. Miriam Maria Marquez. My mom was big on the letter M, and my dad was extremely religious. Miriam means 'exalted' or something, and… you know, the Virgin Mary. One of my old boyfriends in school used to call me Mimi and it just stuck when I became a stripper when I was… oh… probably 15. Because, honestly. Who wants to watch some chick named Miriam dance?"

"Was that your first job?"

"Yeah, if you don't count baby-sitting and stuff like that. My mom was way messed up. Depressed, you know? I think it started when my brother OD'd on heroin. He was like… the light of their life. He was Mr. big old jock who got straight A's and crap like that up until junior year. Then The Man gave him some smack for free, God knows why. He wouldn't give me a gram even when I offered to sleep with him. Who knows, maybe he's queer or something.

"Anyway, I guess he was really like, pressured to do well to make up for how screwed up my parents turned out. My mom got knocked up at 17 while my dad was in college, so they both dropped out and got hitched. They expected Rafe to live how they couldn't. I guess things got to him. After the one time The Man gave him his drugs, things got worse. He liked it. It took the edge off life. So, he kept up with it. One day I came home all crying and depressed because my boyfriend broke up with me or something stupid like that. I caught him in the bathroom sitting on the sink getting high. I still remember what he said to me.

"He said, 'Come over here, chica. You look sad. Look what I've got. Its like, my own piece of sunshine in a bag. You want some?' he shot me up. I remember the first time. The feeling is… its beyond words. Mom and Dad came home not long after and saw me high. They were pissed! Them and Rafe just kept shouting and yelling. I remember he walked out and just… never came home. Somebody found him dead. Mom blamed herself. She kind of… let herself go. Stayed in bed for weeks at a time. It sucked. I couldn't go to school because I had to take care of the little kids because Dad didn't care anymore. He just stayed at work from like, five in the morning until after midnight sometimes.

"Things were just… shit. I couldn't take it. I spent a lot of time in Rafe's room. I found some of his old smack under his bed and remembered the great feeling of being high. I stole it and ran off. I left my mom a note. It… it said… sorry. I feel so dumb crying like this. Uh… the note said, 'Take care of your own damn kids, bitch!' Yeah.

"So I took Rafe's drugs and ditched. I probably had ten bucks. I blew it on more crack. You remember that park Maureen and Joanne told you and Roger about at Christmas, right when I was going to die?"

"Yeah, I do".

"I spent a lot of time there. Its where I lived. It was my home. After a few weeks like that, I decided I needed to get a real job. Not even a fast-food joint would take me. And being a hooker didn't suit me. I was too young, too inexperienced, too skinny… too everything. And it wasn't just me. The pay was too irregular. That's definitely where I got HIV. Bastards. Anyway, The Man told me about this club looking for a dancer. When I was in high school, as a freshman, I was on the dance team, before everything got screwed up. I didn't know they were looking for a stripper, but it was a job. I learned. And that's how I became what I am. Oh, sorry about all that other stuff, its just important to my story."

"No, its good. I want it. Now you don't have to answer this one. Sometimes it reveals one's character. Uh… who was your first? Stop laughing! It's a serious question!"

"Okay… sorry. Its just so dumb! I was at my first party. Like, a real party. I was 14, smashed, he was there, and I wanted to try it. His name was… uh… God, I don't even remember!"

"You know what? Somehow that doesn't surprise me!"

"Oh, shut up. And quit laughing! Don't tell me you never did anything stupid the first time you got drunk!"

"Okay, okay, you have me there. Who is your hero?"

"Um… Rita Moreno?"

"Really!"

"Yep."

"Huh. Okay, what or who do you love most in the world? It could be like, your old handcuffs for all I know."

"Roger."

"I figured as much. Why?"

"Him and his music… they just… they give me life! Literally! He's the reason I gave up drugs, and I know that Your Eyes saved me. And he surprises me every day. It was like, our 8 month anniversary of when we met, or something obscure like that. I came home for depressed for something or other, and he had scattered my whole apartment with cliché romantic things like, flowers and candles and stuff. God knows where, when, or how he came up with it. I never knew he was like that. He always keeps me on my toes."

"What are you most afraid of?"

"God. I just know He's disappointed in me. With all the drugs and getting AIDS and working at the Cat Scratch and all that. I was raised deeply Catholic, and everything I've done goes against my religion. I know He, I mean God, and Jesus have got to be in heaven, shaking their heads at me, waiting to send me to hell."

"Okay. Thanks a lot, Meems".

"Anytime, Marky."

a/n: I promised! There will be one for everybody, even Angel, even though she's dead. But it will work out. If you like it, or think its ridiculous, let me know!