A/N: Okay this is a quick Angel OneShot. I love Angel very much and I never write about her, which is really sad on my part. Anyway, rated T for language and cause its Rent : I got inspiration from different fics I've read so if any of this sounds familiar (like your dead girlfriend –cough-) that's why - Enjoy, please R&R!

I always knew I was different.

Ever since I was born I knew I had something different than the other kids did.

When the boys around my neighborhood would be playing with toy cars, I'd play with dolls.

My mother was a prostitute, my father was a junkie. But he left when I was three, so maybe that's why I turned out the way I am.

When I was fourteen I finally realized what I had been hiding all my life.

I was gay.

I was taught that this was wrong; I'd go to hell for it.

But I really didn't care. If people said they loved me, then that would mean they accept me for who I am, right?

So one night I told my mom.

I told her I liked boys. I told her that I had always felt this way.

I thought she would hug me. Tell me its okay. That she loved me.

But that's not what happened.

She screamed at me to get out of our house.

"I don't need a faggot in here!"

That's the last thing she said to me.

So I packed up the few things I had.

And I took a train to New York.

I had no money whatsoever, so I did the only thing my mom ever did to survive.

I worked the streets.

At first it was awkward, sort of lonely, and then I started to make friends with the other prostitutes.

They gave me tips on how to survive, even gave me a place to stay once in a while. And they nicknamed me Angel, which I thought was amazing.

They also gave me clothes; they told me which colors looked good on me, what makeup to wear. I found it fascinating.

And then, one day, I found out I had AIDS.

I had gotten it from somebody I cared about, somebody who I thought loved me.

That's when I quit working the streets, and I found something else that was a bit safer.

Music.

I had saved up enough money to rent a small apartment on the Lower East Side, so every day I would sit outside on the steps, drumming on an old tub I had found.

I would get swept up into the music, into the beat, into the melody.

I'd sit for hours, even if I hadn't earned a penny.

I started to attend Life Support fairly frequently, making friends who had similar stories to my own.

Then on that cold December night, I had found something I never thought I would ever be able to find.

Love.

Wow I have no idea where that came from, LMAO. Please R&R!