I don't own Rent. I'm just putting my favorite characters through some unnecessary angst to fill up time.
The loft is unsettlingly quiet when I walk in. It's going to take a while to get used to the silence. The vibration of guitar strings is nowhere within earshot.
But if I listen close enough, I can almost hear it. If I squint hard enough, I can see Roger on the table, plucking away at his Fender, scribbling here and there in his notebook.
I rip off the stupid tie I'm wearing and throw it on the ground. Roger wouldn't have cared if I was wearing a tie. I could have shown up in my pajamas and he would have been happy.
I couldn't even bring myself to take my camera to the ceremony. I haven't touched my camera since his last days at the hospital. I figure I'll pick it up soon, but I'm too distraught right now.
Maureen just about flooded the place with her tears, while Joanne dried them off her face.
Me? Well, I barely shed a tear at all. I couldn't even cry at my own best friend's funeral. I'm not even crying now. I want to cry. I want to fall to my knees, sob, and punch the ground.
It was hard when Angel went. It was more than painful when Mimi went. I could barely speak after Collins went. But now that Roger's gone, I can't even think.
He had just gotten his band back together. He had just gotten a record deal. He had just figured things out when his T-cells reached an all time low. I spent all of my time in his hospital room after he got sick. He told me to leave. He wanted me to remember him differently. It was humiliating for him.
Maureen tried to make him smile. It usually worked, too. She would sing, dance, and tell horrible jokes. She was a variety show, right there in his room.
His mother came towards the end. His father stopped by a few times, which I think just about gave him a heart attack. Even my mother came, worried sick about me, being in that hospital 24/7.
I sit down on the couch, my face buried in my palms. Everything in here reminds me of him. The loft suddenly seems bigger. Emptier. And I feel lonelier. More lonely than I've ever felt before.