Disclaimer: I do not own RENT, I only own little Dorian.

Author’s Note: Having writer’s block on In the Land of Darkness, and To Make My Life and Make My Way, so I thought I’d start ANOTHER fiction, to see if I can salvage my brain.

October 29th ,1991. 11:00 pm, Eastern standard time. A year has passed since the death of friend and partner Angel Dumott Schunard. Her death has left this loft feeling more than just a little empty. Her death, at first seemed in vain, but the truth shone through 2 months later, on Christmas Eve. Angel died for the better of our group. And while it was a sad death, we know he’s not really gone. So let this be a night where we party to the memory of our Angel. After all, without Angel’s death, who would of turned Mimi back from the brink ? Too bad the group’s fun loving spirit had to die with her.

Mark Cohen sighed as he looked around the loft of their Avenue A apartment building. Roger and Mimi had gone out earlier, but they should be back soon. Maureen and Joanne were off in a bar somewhere, and Collins, well, Collins was at the graveyard. He visited Angel’s grave nearly everyday. No matter where they were, they knew what today was, and they knew just how painful this day was for Collins.

Mark continued to set up the projector once more. He lifted the reel of film and set it up. He fed the film through the projector and clicked the button down. Looking up, the dancing images reflected off his glasses’ lenses.

“He’s either going to love this, or he’s going to hate me for it.”

He sighed to himself and turned the projector off. He wound the film back carefully and moved to another part of the loft. He walked over the steel table that served as their kitchen table. He ran his hand over and laughed softly to himself thinking back to the day when they first met Angel… He shook himself out of his reverie, the door was opening. He turned to see Roger and Mimi walking in. Mimi was carrying a bouquet of red roses, which she laid down on the kitchen table. They were in honor of Angel and Collins.

Mark smiled at Mimi as she looked up at him. She was looking better now, now that she had quit taking drugs, and had been back to rehab. And it seemed to be working this time around, though, that might be because this time she had Roger at her side through it.

Soon after Maureen and Joanne entered the room; Joanna carried a bottle of champagne, to celebrate and commemorate with.

“ So what are we doing tonight Mark?”

Joanne set the bottle down on the table beside the roses. She smiled at the roses and then at Mimi.

“ That was good of you. I know it must hurt for you too”

“She was the best friend a girl could ever have”

“Yeah, she was…”

Collins’ voice came from the door as he came in. Sighing he pulled the leather trench coat from his shoulders. It was worn through and tattered, but he refused to throw it away. Angel had bought it for him, and it had sentimental value to it. He carefully laid it down on the couch. His eyes rested on the roses

“ Are those for Angel?”

Roger nodded and spoke softly

“ For you and Angel…”

“Thank you…She would of loved them…”

Mimi picked up the bouquet and quietly handed them to Collins. He smiled and smelt the roses

“ Thank you Mimi, thanks Roger. You too, Mark, Maureen, Joanne”

Thomas Collins nodded to them sadly as he look around at all of their faces. Of all them, he did miss Mark and Roger the most sometimes when he was away, but of all of them, he missed his Angel the most. He sighed and sat down on the couch.

“What’s the projector set up for Mark?”

Collins leaned his head back over the couch and looked back at Mark. Mark hopped down from the steel table and walked over to the projector’s stand. The rest of the company followed Collins’ suit and sat down on the couch, or in chairs, curiously looking at the sheet that served as the projector’s screen, or the projector itself.

“ I’ve put something together for you Collins, using all the footage that I didn’t use in the documentary I did last Christmas.”

“ Oh really? A video of what ?”

“ Of your time with, and your love for Angel…”

“ You did…how did you do that ? You didn’t have very much footage of Angel…”

“ He gave me more when you weren’t around…anyway, you’ll see.”

“Mark how come you never told me about any of this?”

Roger had gotten up from his place between Mimi and Collins on the couch. He walked close to the film maker. He held the top of Mark’s arm and spoke softly in his ear.

Mark’s eyes went back to Roger, stopping what he was doing with the film.

“ I didn’t tell you, because it was a surprise.”

“Just be careful… you know what Angel’s loss did to Collins, well, to all of us actually.”

Roger nodded to Mark and went and sat back down, he pulled Mimi into his arms and held her close. Collins watched them and sighed softly. He looked down at the trench coat in his lap. He stroked it gently and, although it was unlikely that they would ever see him do this again, he hugged it tightly, as if still trying to hold onto Angel. To keep him to this world…

Mimi watched him, her expression sad. She got up from Roger’s grasp and crawled across his lap. She moved over to Collins and put her arms around his neck tightly. She pulled him close into a hug and rubbed his back as he sobbed softly. All year he had been strong, but it was today, the anniversary of Angel’s death that he could barely weather. The emotions were just running too high. He hugged the former dancer of the Cat Scratch Club back and pulled back. He wiped his eyes and gave a soft, forced laugh.

“ Heh…I didn’t think this would happen to me tonight. Its been a year… I should be over it by now…”

“No you shouldn’t be. You loved him with all your heart, this is only natural. But Collins, baby, I think its time you moved on, found a new man…”

Maureen’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, along with the rest of the group when Mimi dared to say that to the grieving lover.

“Mimi… Hunny, I don’t think you should of said that --”

Maureen looked at Collins nervously, but she wasn’t met with his anger as she thought they would be. Instead they were met by a broken man.

“ I don’t want another man, I wan my Angel…”

Mimi looked down and nodded sadly, she knew what it was like to want only one person, that they could never have. She stood up and sat back down beside Roger, and curled up in his grasp. He scolded her lightly for ever saying that to Collins in the first place.

Mark gently clicked the button of the projector and sat back down on Collins’ other side. As the projector chattered away, rolling the film, Angel’s joy filled, gentle voice cut through the thick air of the loft

“ Today for you, tomorrow, for ME !”

Collins looked up at the screen and saw Angel’s bright smile. He bit his lip and choked back a sob. He looked down at the coat, and took a deep breath, he looked back up, watching footage of himself and Angel laughing and hugging a year and a half earlier. Back in April of sighed and smiled sadly as he watched the film that Mark had obviously taken timed to put together for him. And maybe one day he might be able to appreciate it, for the talent that it had to of taken to cut it together…but right now all he could think about, was the fact that it was Angel on the screen, and that he…she, was no longer here with him.

Maureen snuck over to the champagne that was still on the table. She tip-toed so that her high-heeled boots wouldn’t make any sound. She looked around, feeling like she had gotten away with it, when Joanne spoke

“You’d better be getting enough for all of us.”

“ Oh…but Pokey--”

“ No Honey-bear, Its for all of us.”

Grumbling, Maureen grabbed six wine glasses and the bottle of champagne. She sat back down, popping the cork and pouring them each a glass. She stuck her tongue out at Joanne. Joanne glared back and shook her head

“ Not tonight Honey-bear”

Maureen immediately retracted her tongue into her mouth and sat quiet. She looked back up and watched the film once more.

Collins stared down into his champagne, in a sorrow filled boredom, for he could not look up at and watch as the rest of them did.

“ And to my dear Collins.”

This footage no one had seen before. Hearing his name, he snapped out of his trance and looked up at the screen.

Angel sat in a studio room. She was sitting on a stool, her knees crossed. She was wearing black and neon pick zebra striped stockings, her ridiculously tall black boots were shiny, they had just been polished that day. Her shirt was black with a silver logo for the Life Café, and her skirt was black with neon pink flowers.

“Tom, I just want you to know, no matter what happens, I’ll always be with you, in spirit, and in your heart. As long as you remember me, you’ll never be alone.”

Angel uncrossed her legs, and crossed them again, the opposite way

“ I love you Tom, no matter what.”

There was a close up of Angel, smiling gently, before the film faded to black, showing that it was over.

Collins took a deep breath and smiled at Mark

“ Thank you Mark… I appreciate this. You went through a lot of work, and I thank you, but I don’t think I can stay here right now…”

Collins got up and nodded sadly, taking one last look at the black screen. He picked up his coat again and walked to the loft door. Slowly he pulled it open and moved to walk out. He stopped suddenly, looking down at the door step

“Hey Collins, what’s got you so spooked ?”

Roger was leaning over the back of the couch, looking at him oddly

“ You are never gonna believe it if I told you…”

“Hold on, lemme come over there.”

Roger took his arm from around Mimi gently, and got up. He walked around the projector and to the door.

“ What is I-- Oh my god…”

“ Yeah…Wonder how--”

“ There’s a note…”

Roger knelt down and picked up the note that was attached to the blanket. Still kneeling, he read the note

“Please, I cannot take care of him anymore. I don’t want to give him up but I have to. I am dying and there is no one else to look after him. Please I implore you, take him and raise him. His name is Dorian Angelus Mendoza.”

“Well there really isn’t much we can do, is there ?”

Collins knelt down and slowly, gently picked up the baby boy.

“ Hold on Collins, there’s more:

His birthday is October 29th, 1990.

…The day of Angel’s death…”

Roger looked back up at Collins, who was busy rocking the little boy back and forth…

“ Looks like we got ourselves a new member of the Alphabet City avant-garde …”