This was written on a whim. It's maybe a little different than the kind of thing usually written for Rent, but I'm in a phase of working with under-developed characters. This is my favourite one.

I see her long before she sees me. I recognize her, though she wouldn't know me from Eve. We've never met, never come anywhere near each other before. I'm faceless, my hair loose and oh so limp, my eyes already too large without any makeup. I'm plain. She isn't, she's anything but. I know her from her walk, the clothing, the whore makeup. She'd walk by without a glance. I stop her on the street.

"Mimi?"

She halts, stunned by the stranger who knows her face. I hold her surprise and suspicion close; anything she has that I can use to hurt her.

"Yes?"

I decide on false familiarity, hoping to milk her confusion. "How are you? I haven't heard from you in forever." I watch her watch me, trying to pinpoint my face, my voice. I watch her mind skim through mental images, pictures of junkies and hookers. She won't find me there.

And suddenly she smiles, slowly and carefully, trying to mask her ignorance. "It has been a while. I'm doing ok. Fine." She grins. "I'm not dead yet."

I smile with warmth almost convincing to myself. "And how's Roger?" I watch her flicker, with what? Jealousy? Good. I know Roger, she must think. Someone to be watched. Not me, little girl. You're the one not to be trusted.

"He's fine."

My chance. "I hear last year was rough on you guys. Something about smack?" A wince. "Something about another man?" Another wince.

"That wasn't anything. He knows that. There was never really anyone else."

"I hear he was married. Benny, right? He had a wife, and you jerked him around on a chain as you waited for Roger again."

She stares at me coldly, wondering how I know so much about her and her goddamn life. "He wasn't really married," she says evenly. "A marriage for money isn't a marriage at all. It wasn't cheating on his part."

"I'm sure she would disagree."

"Who?

"His wife."

She laughs, an ugly bark. "Muffy? Who fucking cares about her? She's got her daddy's money, a big house, everything she wants. She probably didn't notice he was gone."

"But you left him. Left him and ran away and almost killed yourself."

"Benny wasn't anything," she says again, kicking the pavement with the toe of her boot.

I feel suddenly bold. "Fucked him a lot since then?" I ask, letting the cruel words slip off my tongue and wrap themselves around her. She ignores the question, staring at me with flames in her dark eyes.

"What was your name again?" she asks instead, and I push past her, continuing down the street. Without slowing and without turning back, I answer her.

"Alison."

I think Alison Gray is a lot more than Muffy the Rich Bitch. I know the Bohemians are not big fans of her, but they don't know her, I don't think. She comes from another world, but she's still human. Still has a heart. And she loves her husband. That's the most painful part for her.