Disclaimer: All his. Not mine.

It's 11:33 PM, and Mimi knows what she wants. She has spent the day lounging around her apartment, catching up on sleep, and talking on the phone to Angel, and now she wants to go out—preferably with her boyfriend.

That boyfriend in question lives in the loft above her and would, she knew, probably be more than a little reluctant to go anywhere, with or without her. But that didn't matter. Mimi wants to go out, and she is going to go out.

She's already made her way up to the loft and knocked before she's even thought to figure out where to go. Anyway, the specifics don't really matter—once she is on the street with Roger, things will work themselves out.

She waits impatiently in front of the door before knocking again, and then clacks around loudly with her boots for good measure. Still no one answers, which isn't right, because Roger has to be home—where else would he be?

Mimi finally resolves to force her way into the loft (she is getting in, one way or another), and is more than a little surprised to find the door slide open easily in her hands. Why would Mark and Roger leave the door unlocked? Even they know better than that.

"Roger?" She calls as she steps into the loft and is immediately assaulted by dark. That isn't right…the power can't be out; it had been working in her apartment only minutes earlier.

Mimi blinks and waits for her eyes to adjust to the dark; as she does, she hears a faint sound from what seems to be far away. Even from the distance, she can recognize the unmistakable chuckle of Collins, and a smile slides onto her face. She stalks in the direction of the fire escape and deftly climbs out the window and onto it.

Just as she had suspected, Collins is there, seated comfortably on the escape, laughter and smoke escaping from his mouth, a cigarette between his fingers. Leaning on the railing beside him, smiling mischievously, is Maureen, a half-empty bottle beside her. Both seem surprised to see her, but greet her warmly anyway.

"Party?" Mimi asks with a smile. She plucks the cigarette out from Collin's fingers, takes a drag, and replaces it easily.

"Not yet," Maureen tosses back. She holds out the bottle, then brings it back towards herself, waggling a finger at Mimi. "I forgot; you're underage. No alcohol for you."

Mimi snorts, but doesn't protest. Lately Maureen has been uncharacteristically motherly over not only her, but Roger and Mark as well. Mimi doesn't understand the reasoning for the latter two, but she understands too clearly the logic for herself. She knows it doesn't just have to do with her age; she knows that she's been losing weight lately, growing weaker…

But she is determined not to think about it. She wants to spend tonight having fun, not worrying about her deteriorating health. And speaking of fun…

"Where's Roger?" She asks either or both of them. After all, she had come up to find him and drag him out with her tonight.

Both Collins and Maureen shrug indifferently. "Out," Collins states unhelpfully. "With Mark."

Neither of them seem bothered at all by the fact that they are in Mark and Roger's loft while neither Mark nor Roger is there.

"Okay," Mimi prompts. She purses her lips and fixes her gaze onto Collins and Maureen. "Any idea where they went, or when they're coming back?"

"Well…sort of," Collins says, but he offers no more. "They could be awhile."

Mimi sighs. This is not the way that things are supposed to work out. "Where could they possibly have to go? And why is he always out with Mark when he's supposed to be out with me?" She knows she sounds young and whiny, two things she tries very hard not to be, but she doesn't care. This was supposed to be her fun night out—she knew she wouldn't get very many more of these—and now it's ruined, all because her boyfriend had decided to go out with his best friend instead of out with her.

"And," she adds, unable to stop her burgeoning rant, "He went out with him yesterday! Why is it that—" She breaks herself off abruptly. It isn't Mark's fault. It isn't anyone's fault, except maybe her own, for thinking, as usual, that she can do whatever she wants.

She is jolted out of her thoughts by Maureen and Collins' snickers. "How many times now?" Maureen asks, and Collins grins at her.

"About six," he says.

"Times for what?" Mimi asks, curious. She sits down and leans against the window, stretching out like a cat and facing Collins and Maureen. "What are you counting?"

Maureen flashes her teeth at Collins before turning to Mimi. "Times that a girlfriend has used that line. You know, the one about Mark and Roger being…well, Mark and Roger."

"Really?"

Collins nods at her and takes a drag on his cigarette. "Oh yeah," He gestures towards Maureen. "Mo here said it all the time when we lived together."

"Only because it was so much worse then," Maureen complains. "I mean, back then it wasn't just Mark and Roger. It was Mark and Roger and you and Benny, and then there was me and April." Mimi has never heard anyone mention April's name so freely, but time still seems to stop after her name jumps into the air.

"No," Collins disagrees. "It was always Mark and Roger."

Maureen shrugs, and shifts positions. "Maybe," she allows.

It's right then that Mimi decides that she isn't going to let the night be wasted. She might not be able to go out with Roger, but she can put the night to some use. "Tell me about it," She declares.

"About what?"

"About that. The Mark and Roger thing, and about before, when everyone lived together. No one's ever told me anything." She settles down and waits.

Collins raises an eyebrow at her. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything. No," She amends, "everything."

Maureen laughs raucously, and upon hearing that laugh, Mimi remembers why she likes Maureen so much. "We can tell her about the time that Mark almost threw Roger's guitar out the window!"

Collins grins jovially and says, "Or about the time that they locked themselves out of the loft."

Maureen laughs even more upon hearing this, and Mimi can't help but smile even though she knows nothing about it.

"Yes. Tell me about that," She decides.

"All right," Collins says. He nudges Maureen and says, "Lemme tell this one." Maureen nods and motions for him to continue.

"Let's see," Collins begins. He raises the cigarette to his lips once more and thinks. "It must have been a few months after Benny had moved in. All six of us were living here together—me, Benny, Maureen, Mark, Roger, and April." That name again.

"It was some weekend where a lot of us were out. Benny was visiting his parents, and April was in New Jersey with some friends, Maureen was—"

"Here and there," Maureen interjects, waving her hand dismissively.

"And I was in Switzerland—" Collins continues.

This time Mimi interrupts. "Switzerland?" When she was a kid, she had dreamed of traveling abroad. The farthest she had gotten was a broken-down loft in New York City. And Collins had been to Switzerland?

"Collins has been everywhere," Maureen says. She tosses her hair and pokes him. "He was quite the risk-taker, weren't you, Col?"

"Still am," Collins says, grinning widely. "Come to me another time, Meems, and I'll tell you all about my adventure at the Parthenon."

Mimi laughs, and feels like a little child hearing a story from her dad. Not that she would ever consider Collins a dad—more like a big brother, the kind of brother who smokes weed and laughs a lot and is always there to talk to. If Collins is her big brother right now, then is Maureen her big sister?

"Okay," she hears herself saying. "Now go on."

"Patience," Collins admonishes, and fixes her with a mock-serious glare. "Anyway. So, we're all out of town except for Mark and Roger. And those two decide to go out drinking without the rest of us." He shakes his head at the memory, but a grin is tugging at his lips.

"So they go out and by the time they come back, it's late, so late that it's early. And then they figure out that neither of them brought a key."

Mimi feels herself beginning to smile, because the way Collins looks when he says it, she can just picture the two of them figuring out that they'd forgotten the key while stumbling in the streets.

"And then they realize that none of us are going to home for at least two days."

"Didn't you have any other friends?" Mimi asks.

"We did," Maureen says. "They didn't. Well, Roger still had his band then, and I'm sure Mark had other friends, but neither of them was thinking straight. Mark and Roger together are idiots, you know." She rolls her eyes knowingly.

"Who's telling this story?" Collins asks pointedly. He continues. "So I'm the first one to come back, and guess what I see?" he doesn't wait for an answer. "Mark and Roger, sitting on the doorstep—same place they've been sitting for the past two days. And Roger's there, playing his guitar for money and Mark's just filming him, and they're looking like the most pathetic trash on the streets. And I ask them what the hell they're doing out there, and they tell me that they're camping."

"Camping?"

"Camping," Collins confirms. "Camping out on the steps in the middle of New York."

Mimi shakes her head, still smiling, because all of it is playing out perfectly in her heads. "Idiots," She murmurs.

"Oh yeah," Collins says. "And you know what the best part is? It turns out that Mark dropped the key in front of the loft when he left. Fools didn't even bother to check to see if it was anywhere. They could have been in the loft the whole time."

"They liked it, though," Maureen declares. "Marky told me after that it was an adventure and that he got some good footage from it of a bum kicking Roger for stealing her 'home'."

Collins shakes his head again, and as he begins to talk Mimi starts to tune out of the conversation.

She has never felt unaccepted in their group. All of them had welcomed her in with open arms, problems and all, and had been there for her selflessly. It was something that continued to surprise her, the way that these people had taken her in without asking questions.

Still, there is always the sense that she has missed out on something. She wonders if Angel and Joanne ever feel also that because of the short time that she had known them, there was an entire history that she would be excluded from.

Mimi suddenly feels a strong desire to find out as much as she can about Those Days, the days that she has not been a part of. Perhaps they could help her understand this amazing and crazy group of people more, and especially understand Roger more.

Mimi looks back at Collins and Maureen. She had never thought of the two of them as being good friends, but as she watches them now, sitting with each other, it seems to make perfect sense. It's the same way that she had never imagined Angel and Roger getting along with each other until that one day that she had walked into the loft and seen Angel drumming on the table while Roger strummed on his guitar.

"Brightens up a room…just like…before…"

"Then rehab…Mark…"

Mimi starts to listen just in time to catch a few words of what Maureen is saying. It sounds like she's talking about Roger's withdrawal, and that's the last thing that Mimi wants to hear about. She knows that everyone in their group thinks that Mimi should give up smack, but she just can't. It's not that easy, and she doesn't want to, so she doesn't like to talk or hear or even think about it.

"Give me the bottle," Mimi says suddenly, and Maureen clucks her tongue but still hands it over. Mimi drinks straight from the bottle, pouring the burning liquid into her mouth but savoring it while she does.

"Let's go inside," Mimi decides. It's not cold, but it's starting to get chilly. Maureen and Collins nod in agreement, and Collins puts out his cigarette.

Mimi leads the way back into the loft through the fire escape. As soon as she gets into the room she spins around in a circle just to feel like she's flying. Maureen laughs and joins her. Mimi likes the way that Maureen will do anything to have fun, just like her.

"We should go out," Mimi insists once she's finished spinning and dizziness has overcome her. She had been okay with staying in tonight, but then she had started thinking about smack, and now she wants to fly and get away all over again. She's feeling reckless, feeling like dancing and having a good time, and if Roger's not there to go out with her then Maureen and Collins will do just fine.

So she's surprised when both Maureen and Collins shake their heads and sit down on the couch. "Not now, babe," Maureen tells her. It's times like these that make Mimi feel young, and like she's missing out on something.

"What's wrong?" She asks, and there's a bit of worry in her voice. Something's wrong; she can feel it. Mimi has always been good at sensing these things.

They both smile a little oddly at her, and Maureen says quietly, in a tone that Mimi has never heard her speak in before, "They should be home soon."

Mimi glances at the clock. It says 11:53 PM, and she doesn't understand what the significance is.

She curls up on the chair, across from Maureen and Collins. "Tell me more," she says softly, but what she's really saying is Remind me that I belong here.

Maureen must hear the secret message, because she glances at the clock and then back at Mimi and agrees. "Okay," she says as she leans forward on the couch. "I'll tell you the blanket story, because at least it's sort of cute, and no one ever tells the cute stories"

Collins snorts but Maureen just ignores him and begins. "You know how Mark's always been a bit of an insomniac?"

Mimi doesn't know that, and hasn't ever known, but she nods anyway.

"Okay, so there was some week when Mark hadn't gotten any sleep at all. God, that was horrible. Remember that week?" She turns to Collins.

Collins nods. "Oh, yeah. Never seen the boy sulk so much."

Maureen turns back to Mimi. "It was horrible. By the third day, all he did was sit in a corner and pout. And anytime anyone asked him to do something, or even talked to him at all, he would get all snappy and complain about how he was pissed because it was impossible to sleep in the loft because 'everyone was so damn loud'." Maureen rolls her eyes. "Yeah, he actually starts to blame his freaky sleeping problems on the rest of us." She shifts a little bit in her chair and smiles coyly. "Oh, and of course this was way before he and I were together."

Mimi grins because she understands the implication.

Maureen goes on. "We all got so fed up with Mark that the rest of us figured that we should do something about it. So when he's out filming, we get together and decide that we'll actually all chip in some money so that we can buy him something that will help him sleep. And Roger volunteers to be the one to go and get it." Maureen stops talking, and she must be thinking about the next part of the story, because a smile ghosts over her face. "Stupid of us to let him."

"Real stupid," Collins agrees.

"So Roger comes back the next day and he tells us that he got it. And all of us were thinking that he would get something practical, like sleeping pills or… or I don't know, just something that made sense." Maureen leans back onto the couch.

"And then he brings out what he bought, and guess what it is?" Maureen actually waits for Mimi to answer, and Mimi can guess what the answer is.

"A blanket?"

"A freaking blanket," Maureen confirms. "And not just any blanket. A baby blanket. You know, like those tiny pink and blue ones that they give to babies when they're not sure if they're going to be a boy or a girl? Yeah, he uses all our money to get Mark a blanket. I mean, I thought it was kind of cute, but still…"

Collins is already chuckling on the couch next to Maureen, and Mimi wishes she had been there. "What did Mark say?"

"Mark? Well, Mark made fun of him with the rest of us. But then he actually did sleep with it, and it actually helped him."

"Does he still sleep with it now?" Mimi feels like this would be the perfect ending to the story.

Collins interjects, "He traded the blanket for Maureen."

"It was a much better deal," Maureen adds in slyly. "But who knows? Maybe he's sleeping with it now. He'd never admit to it."

"That must have been funny," Mimi says wistfully. "It sounds like you had a lot of fun living together."

Collins and Maureen exchange a look. "There were good times," Collins says, and the rest of the sentence is implied.

Mimi curls up more into herself as a silence descends on the loft. Something doesn't feel right, but right now she's too comfortable to leave or to question it.

"I feel like I missed out," She admits to them. "You know, because I wasn't there."

She expects one of them to console her, but neither is paying attention to her right then. Their gazes are both fixed resolutely on the clock, and as Mimi watches them, trying to decipher some meaning out of the glowing numbers, she sees the clock click from 11:59 to 12:00.

Something passes through Maureen and Collins, and they both sigh and tense up visibly. Maureen leans her head on Collins' shoulder. He lets out a little air of breath and they both become the epitome of obligated anticipation.

Mimi watches both of them curiously from her position in the chair and doesn't know what to do. She twirls a strand of long hair in her fingers and opens her mouth to ask for another story, but right at that moment the door to the loft opens.

Mark and Roger walk in, and something in the loft changes as they enter. Both Maureen and Collins stand up and the four of them exchange hugs. Mimi feels left out again, sitting in her chair all alone, but there's something going on that she doesn't understand so she doesn't move.

After Roger has received a hug from Maureen, he comes over to Mimi. She stands up and brings him in close to her, and he hugs her before pulling away quickly. He must notice the hurt expression on her face, because he drops a light kiss on her cheek and tries for a smile that doesn't look too sincere before heading over to the 'kitchen'.

Mimi switches her gaze to the other three, and sees Mark pulling over two more chairs. After he's dragged them across the floor, he goes over to the door, where there's a package that he and Roger must have brought in. He pulls out a two-liter bottle of… is it root beer?

It is, because Mark brings it to the table and sets it down gently, so Mimi is able to get a good look at it. Roger comes over, holding cups in his hands. He sets two in front of Maureen and Collins, hands one to Mark, places one in front of his own seat, and turns to look at Mimi before hesitantly offering her a cup. She takes it because it seems like she should. Collins gets up to pour some of it into each cup, and Mimi stares down into the fizzy brown liquid.

Collins sits and crosses his arms. Maureen leans her head once more on Collins' shoulder. Mark picks up his cup and studies the root beer in it. Roger slouches in his chair, not making eye contact with anyone else. Mimi watches all of them uncomfortably, wondering what they are waiting for.

"Well," Mark says definitively, sadly, resolutely. "Happy Birthday, April." He raises his plastic cup, and Maureen and Roger and Collins do the same. All four of them take a sip, and it all makes sense to Mimi now.

It's April's birthday, and they've all gathered here to remember the girl who used to be. They've gathered to preserve her memory, and it must be something that they do every year that Mimi accidentally fell into. She doesn't belong here, and all of a sudden she feels oppressed and out-of-place. She's the current girlfriend, and this night (this morning?) is dedicated to the former girlfriend. Her very presence is making things uncomfortable.

"I'm going to—I'm going to go," She stammers out, and gets up clumsily. The four of them follow her with their eyes, but none says anything to stop her, not even Roger. They won't tell her to leave, and they won't invite her in. But it doesn't matter, because she doesn't want to stay. She doesn't want to sit and hear about her predecessor.

She leaves the loft quickly, heels on her boots clacking once more, shaking hand holding the cup of root beer. Was root beer April's favorite drink? She doesn't know the story behind the liquid, but she knows that she's not going to be drinking it.

She stumbles back into her apartment, but she can't keep her thoughts about April from swirling around her head. Was April prettier than her? Funnier? Sweeter? Sexier? Would April always be able to trump her as Roger's true love? Even without being here, April still maintains her hold.

Mimi falls onto her bed and bunches the covers up around her. She doesn't like April, or maybe just the memory of April, because April is a prophecy. One day Mimi will be like April. One day Collins and Maureen and Roger and Mark and maybe Joanne and Angel will sit around and talk about her, and what will they drink to remember her? Maybe they won't drink anything, she thinks to herself bitterly. Maybe they'll just put a little smack on the table and stare at it blankly, because that is what will come to mind when they think of her.

Yes, Mimi is a shadow of April. April was the first, the best, and Mimi will forever be her follower. In time, she'll just be another one of Roger's old junkie girlfriends, another one with bright eyes and a knowing smile.

No, she won't off herself in the bathroom like April did, but she'll die just the same of her own mistakes. She'll die and leave Roger behind, mourning another love gone.

Mimi had wanted to go out tonight so that she could forget about her own mortality, but instead she had stayed in and been reminded of it all over again. Now Mimi wants to forget. She wants to forget all about April and HIV and smack and all the things that will kill her someday. She wants Roger and her friends and to have fun and to live and to not have to think about death. But all she has is a death sentence and a deteriorating immune system and the memories of a person she didn't know, of a life she wasn't a part of.

Mimi wants the world but right now all she has are her thoughts and her smack. Mimi smiles wryly because she knows which one she'll choose.