AN: IT'S BACK!!! *laughs manically*

Formerly "Facing," I rewrote a lot of it, added some new scenes, and the like. Even though I said it was gonna be up around Christmas, I decided to wait to see Rent last weekend before I started posting this back up. (It was so awesome. Props to Brian Gligor, who did an outstanding interpretation of Mark!)

Once again, I own nothing, except for Tara and Dave.

Seasons Of Love

Mark Cohen focused his camera, and began filming the street below. He did this sort of thing from time to time. Capturing life unscripted somehow worked out best for him. Besides, the street had to be more interesting than anything that was going on in the loft.

"June 14," he began narrating, "the precursor to the hot New York summer."

He paused for a second. He remembered the events of last summer. And Angel. Mark remembered the difference that that man made in their lives.

A knock jolted him from the past and back into the loft. He sighed while pausing the camera. It was probably Collins or Roger and Mimi. That lock hadn't been working properly since the great New Year's Break-in Bash. Mostly it was because they had to break the thing off, but also because Benny couldn't pay to fix it or buy a new one. The divorce cost him a lot.

A harsher knock came. "I'm coming!" Mark opened the door, finding not one of the loft mates, but a woman.

"Hi," she said, "I'm sorry to bother you but.well, I should explain. The name's Tara Wendko. I just moved in downstairs."

"Oh. Um, Mark. Mark Cohen."

"Nice to meet you." She quickly grabbed his hand and shook it. "Anyway, my hot plate just.I don't know, burned out on me, and I was wondering if-"

"Sure, you can use ours." This sounded pretty familiar.

"Great!" Tara smiled. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Do you need any help?"

"No thanks! I'll take care of it!"

Mark watched her head downstairs. God, she was good-looking.

He realized why the whole ordeal seemed so familiar. It was pretty much the same way Roger and Mimi had met. Of course, knowing his luck, Tara would end up having a boyfriend/girlfriend.

Shit, his camera was still on. He turned it off and removed it from its place in the window.

Tara appeared at the door with a box of food. With someone helping her. Great.

"We can't thank you enough," Tara said, putting the box on the floor.

"Goes against my notion that all New Yorkers are selfish, cruel human beings," her male companion added.

"Dave!"

Mark picked up his stuff. "I guess.I'll be leaving you two alone, then."

Tara looked at Mark, then at Dave, and then back to Mark. "You think he's my boyfriend?"

He swallowed. "Well, uh-I-"

She laughed. "Dave, the gracious New Yorker is Mark Cohen. Mark, this is my younger brother Dave."

"By five minutes," Dave said. Thank God. Twins.

"So, Mark," Tara started, "What are your room mates like?"

He didn't ask how she knew that he lived with other people. "Fine. I mean, they're not all bad, but it does seem a bit crowded at times."

"I'm warning you now, my sister has a thing for the intimate details about people."

Tara was pouring batter on the plate. "It's not as bad as sounds. I like writing about people."

"You're a writer?" Mark asked.

"Obviously. I do short fiction pieces, but they have a grain of truth."

"I paint," Dave said. "It's more fun. And you are.?"

"I'm a filmmaker."

"Really? Have you done anything?" Tara asked.

"Yeah. Today 4 U. It's about my roommates' life last year."

"Wow. That's so great." Tara smiled. "I just realized we have something in common."

"What?"

"We portray life as we see it. The events that we find important, we record for others to see."

"My sister the philosopher." Dave noticed Mark's camera. "You can film us if you want."

"Um, no, that's okay." Now that was weird. He hardly ever passed up the opportunity to film something. Maybe it was Tara. She seemed so different from the other girls he had met before.

"Mark, you want one of these?"

"Huh?" Tara's question jolted him out of his daze.

"I asked you if you wanted one of these." She held up what seemed like a very thin pancake. She saw his confused look and laughed. "You have no idea what this is, right?" He nodded. "Try it, it's good."

"Uh-oh. Tara's going into mother mode."

"David, just because I'm encouraging him to try new things does not mean I'm turning motherly."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Look, I'm going back downstairs, okay?"

"Sure, have fun all alone. " Tara waved a hand toward the door.

Turning her attention back to Mark, she smiled and said, "Where were we?"

"You going to tell me what that thing was and then force-feed me it."

"It's a French pancake. Our mom used to make these all the time."

"Oh." He noticed a sad look in her eyes. "Did something happen?" Mark was hoping-no; make that praying- that it wasn't AIDS.

"She died when we were sixteen. Breast cancer. Our dad killed himself a year later, and we've been on our own ever since."

"I know how that feels." He remembered the stunned look Roger had worn for about a month after April died, and how Collins was after Angel.

"Dave's been living with me for about two years now. He can't really look after himself."

Mark was about to say something when the door opened. "Hey, Collins."

Tara looked at the plate. "Oh, well, um. I'd better get going." Mark helped her put away the food. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem."

"Well," She paused at the door. "I guess I'll be seeing you."

Collins watched the filmmaker go into his room and flop onto his mattress. "Who was that?"

"Some girl who lives downstairs." Mark closed his eyes and thought about the night's events.

It could be, for the first time in almost two years, he felt like he was in love.

* * *

PS: I'm sorry this was so long! Review! Will except flames to comfort my freezing fingers!!!!!!!