Author's Note : Hello! So, here I am, not moving on from RENT, ended up writing another fanfic. This one was actually a so-called request from my friend and reader, Amanda LC, though it isn't exactly what she asked. Half of the idea was from Chui Shirou, who is also my beta-reader for this fic, so, thanks a bunch to her!
With the engagement scene present, I believe you guys know that this one is based on the movie version.
Anyway, I got back to my territory : angst & hurt/comfort. Please give me a word when you read this :)

Disclaimer : RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson. RENT the Movie belongs to Chris Columbus & Columbia Pictures.

That's it, Maureen Johnson. I'm gone.

My own words echoed in my head as more clicks of my heels echoed through the empty corridors. Her words suddenly rang in my head, replacing my own words. "Take me for what I am," she had said.

But hadn't it been all I was doing with her? Hadn't I been all but selfish with her? I had never commented on her midnight rehearsals on weekdays, though I knew that I needed my sleep. I had never turned down her calls, no matter how busy I was in my office. I always stuck by her in her every performance. I even granted her plead to have sex at ridiculous time like two a.m.. So what was so wrong? What was so wrong with me asking the same thing from her?

Why had she done that on this day? On our engagement party. Commitment was all I asked from her.

I had reached my room and closed the door when I realized that tears had already wet my cheeks. As soon as my fingers met the teardrops, my heaving turned into sobs.

As the sobs became unbearable, I felt my feet became weak and I slid down and let myself sat on the cold floor. I buried my face in my hands, holding the sobs that were forcing to escape. I silently cried, biting my lips so that no scream would escape.

Then the questions lingered in my head.

Was Maureen really flirting with the girl? Was it really just me being too possessive? Was it just because Mark had told me about her when she had been with him?

I could only look at our empty room through my tears. Seeing her stuff scattered around the room made it harder to stop the tears from falling.

Her blood-red lipstick on the nightstand, her tank top on the bed, her bra on the pillow… How last night had been so beautiful that I didn't bother this complete mess. I had never imagined this thing would happen. I had thought things would have just gone my way today, just the way I had calculated. I had thought everything would've been perfect.

As I finally gained some strength to push the cold floor and stood up, I ended up curling up on the bed, where her scent was on every inch of it. Realizing that the scent had been in my embrace just one hour ago made it even more impossible to control my feeling.

I, the Joanne Jefferson, the promising lawyer of New York, had been defeated by the one and only Maureen Johnson.

The thought made it hard to determine what I was feeling right now. I was upset. I was angry. I was furious. I was broken. And I just couldn't understand. I couldn't understand how we could have ended this way. And being not able to understand annoyed me, though it was all I'd been getting with Maureen.

I couldn't understand how we would fight and reconcile all the time. I couldn't understand how I could cope with her lifestyle. I couldn't understand how I had forgiven her all the time—but not this time. Now I could just wonder, how could I have fallen in love with her in the first place?

When I finally had the strength to sit up and the tears stopped spilling, I stumbled to the bathroom just to see how miserable I looked. I quickly re-did my makeup and put on my mask before the feelings rushed back, though my eyes were all red and puffy.

I strode out of my bedroom with the mask I always wore in every trial. Ignoring every person I walked pass by, I finally reached the private bar. I took the first glass of champagne I could find and drank all of the content in one gulp. I took another one before I decided to sit down on the tall chair by the counter. "Do you have anything stronger than this?" I asked the waiter who had come to retrieve my empty glass without looking at him.

"Um, no," the young man said. He was probably just the same age as me. He eyed me suspiciously for a second before he said, "Funny. My co-worker said that the girl in the engagement party had asked her the same."

I scoffed. "Should've ordered something stronger, indeed."

The waiter had left with a confused look when I heard someone approaching me. I cursed for whoever this person was, but regretted the thought as soon as I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder.

"Kitten," my father softly called.

I gritted my teeth as an attempt not to hug my father and cry in his arms just like when I had lost a spelling competition when I had been seven. "It's alright, kitten," he said, rubbing my back.

"No, Dad," I closed my eyes and flinched at the touch, but immediately regretted the gesture. "It's not alright," I hissed, trying to control the rushing anger.

My father sighed and asked for a glass of drink to the waiter—who was wise enough to leave us as soon as he gave the older man who practically owned the building a glass of champagne.

I suddenly realized that my shoulder went up and down as I inhaled and exhaled, shuddering slightly every time I breathed out. I realized that still held the glass in front of me though I had almost drank all of the liquid inside when I felt my hands trembling. Not wanting my father to see my trembling hands, I decided to rest the glass on the table. I groaned as I almost slammed it instead.

"Joanne."

"Yes, Dad," I almost whispered. My father's calling me almost brought back some memories from my childhood and I felt like I had been thirteen again. I felt like when I got that 'B' mark on my exam sheet for the first time, score lower that I had allowed myself to get. I had been afraid that my father would be angry and told me to study harder. But just like that day, my father just gave me his advice.

"It's not your fault, Kitten," he said. "But it's not Maureen's fault either."

"Then who's to blame?"

"No one," I could see my father shrugged from the corner of my eyes. "Just consider this as a learning process."

There, the exact thing he had told me long time ago.

"All I asked her was commitment, Dad. And she ruined it," I still stared at the edge of my glass, though I could feel my eyebrows knitted together.

"Kitten, that is where you learn from and probably Maureen, too. You both are learning to accept things when they don't go as you expect them to be," he continued.

I sighed and finally finished my drink. As much as I wanted to blame her for this ruined day, I knew that my father's words were right. As much as I wanted to tell my father how upset I was, I knew that I wouldn't win the argument with the senior lawyer.

After several moments of silence, he said, "You really do love her, don't you?"

It was my turn to sigh. I still didn't have the guts to look at my father, knowing that I would cry if I did. So I just stared at the wall in front of me. "Yes," I almost whispered. "But I suppose now I have to stop it," my voice cold.

"You know you don't have to."

"But, Dad," I finally braced myself to turn to meet his loving eyes. "She's just— She was— Unbelievable," I said in defeat. And I hated being defeated.

"But you love her. It's alright, honey."

"No, it's not, Dad," I snapped.

"You love her enough that you actually used that tone with your father," I could imagine the surprise on his face and suddenly regretted my harsh tone, but then I knew he was just teasing me as I could hear a smile in his voice.

I sighed again, rubbing my tired eyes. "I'm sorry," I said.

"Enough to make you lose control, and Daddy's little girl do not lose control," my dad said.

I groaned. "I'm a mess," I muttered.

"And enough to turn the well-managed Joanne Jefferson into a mess and actually admitted it."

"Oh, please stop it, Dad," I almost whined.

The senior lawyer beside me just laughed before he cleared his throat. "Well, you know," my father tried to start again. "Women."

I scoffed. "What is it about them?" I sarcastically said.

"Can't live with them or without them."

"Right." I secretly rolled my eyes.

"Kitten," his tone suddenly serious. "You still have the time to figure things out. And let Maureen figure them out, too. If she's really worth it, you'll get her back. If you two are meant for each other, you will get back together." I could feel my father's hand on my shoulder, lightly squeezing it. "I'm sure of it," he assured me.

I couldn't say anything. Fortunately, my father just sat and finished his drink, giving me the comfortable silence I needed.

"Alright," he stood up after a while. "I have to go back before your mom has another reason to freak out and started to complain about everything. You know we both have to deal with her soon." My dad then lightly patted my back as an encouragement. "We'll leave when you're ready."

I nodded in response, my eyes still on the empty glass in front of me. My dad had almost reached the door when I suddenly realized something. "Dad," I called him. "Thank you."

He just smiled in return and said, "Anytime, Kitten. Anytime."

Now that I was alone again, I didn't even know what to feel. I suddenly felt numb, which was actually good because I didn't want to ruin my make up again. All of the emotions I had felt just vanished and I believed this had nothing to do with the champagne I had drunk. I simply feel empty. But how could you not feel empty when a beautiful mess called Maureen Johnson who had turned your life upside down had been suddenly out of your life? Then I knew, I just knew that this beautiful mess was not easy to be forgotten. Soon, I would know that it was just simply impossible.