A/N:  The characters don't belong to me, of course. They're Jonathan Larson's. Please read and tell me what you think so far. Comments, criticism, anything's appreciated. :)

As I sit in the cold bar and sip my beer, I look around the almost empty room and spot a tall, blonde man in the secluded corner, by himself. I've been seeing him a lot lately. Mostly because I always hang out here and this seems to be his permanent home.

            He looks over at me and I turn around quickly and cover my face with my long, dark hair, hoping he didn't notice my stare.

            I'm not great with men. Well, actually I am great with men. And that's the problem. I haven't had a real boyfriend in…oh, about two years now. They all just end up as one-night stands, which is great if you're not looking for a real relationship.

But I am. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's the kind of guys I pick up. But for whatever reason, the next morning I always wake up in an empty bed in an empty apartment.

            I look up again and notice that the man is walking…well, more like stumbling over to me. I sigh and flip my hair behind my back and away from my face, turning on the charm.

            "Hey," he slurs and I give him a seductive smile. "Can I buy you a drink?"

            I motion to the beer already in front of me. "No thanks." I smile again and purse my lips just a bit.

            "I'm Roger." He returns the smile.

"April."

            He's obviously drunk…and stoned. But, he seems sweet. Cute too. So I flirt back, and soon I find myself walking the four blocks back to his place.

            I look around the tiny apartment and see a woman asleep on a ratty sofa, and two men, one asleep on the floor on an inflatable mattress, and the other on a tiny cot that looks like it's about to fall apart any second.

            Roger motions to the brunette on the couch. "That's Maureen," he whispers. "She and Mark must have had another fight."

I nod. "Who's Mark?" I ask, looking at the two men sleeping on the mattress and cot.

            He points to a small room in the corner with the door closed. "My roommate."

            I nod again, unable to understand how so many people can live together in such a tiny, tiny space.

            I grew up as an only child in one of the richer areas of New York. My father was wealthy, he always gave me and my mother whatever material possessions we wanted. Though unfortunately, it was only material things.

            Looking around at the small room again, I take in the cozy atmosphere and think to myself that this is better than anything I ever had when I was growing up. I smile to myself. I don't think I'll be waking up in an empty apartment tomorrow.

            Roger grabs hold of my hand and leads me towards a small room next to the one he pointed out earlier.

            As I close the door behind us, he goes over to the bed, which looks no bigger than the cot in the living room, and pushes off various papers, empty beer cans, water bottles, and…needles?

            I look at him questioningly but before I have the chance to say anything my lips are smothered by his own and I'm being pushed down on the now empty bed. I don't protest, though. I'm more than a little used to this by now. So I give in fully and give myself up to him, expecting a full night of pleasure and then the familiar feeling of emptiness in the morning when I wake up and find him nowhere in sight. Well, at least the sex will be good.

            And then tomorrow I'll go back to the bar, pick up some other random guy and repeat the process over and over, with the same hopes that someday I might not wake up to an empty bed.

A/N:  Sorry it's so short. But it's a start.