A/N: For my own Mark, ProngsLovesRent. I just felt I needed to write something for him...
But, poor him, he has a crappy writer of a friend like me to write fics for him. Sorry Prongsy. ): Anyway, I was planning on saving this for his birthday, but I'm feeling angsty. So I thought I'd post something angsty.
Mark centric, if you'll notice. Oh, and if you're a Legally Blonde fan, there are a few scattered lyrics from "Legally Blonde" in here. (: Have fun with this, even though it sucks.
Oh, and RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson and Legally Blonde belongs to Heather Hach, Laurence O'Keefe, and Nell Bejamin.
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I slammed the door to my bedroom and finally let the tears flow. I slid down against the hard wood and reached up to lock it. I don't want her in here. Ever again.
She dumped me.
She fucking dumped me.
For a woman.
I'm pathetic.
I hate myself. I hate myself for being so...cheatable. Yup, thats me, Mark frickin' Cohen, the cheatable bastard of Alphabet City. I can see the commercials promoting this exciting product: "Everyone should cheat on Mark Cohen! And it helps if it's with a woman. Mad props to you if you cheat on Mark with a goddamn woman. Oh, and her name should be Joanne. And she should be a lawyer. Yeah. Then you and Maureen can have a club."
I sighed. Right there. If only you could've heard me. It was quite a sad sigh. Filled with loneliness, pain, and my breath smelt of getting cheated on.
"MARK!" Maureen's familiar shriek came floating under the door. I had been leaning against it, so I got an earful of Maureen Johnson. I moved away slowly, onto my bed, and curled up into a ball and listened to Maureen bang on my locked door. I took off my glasses and wiped my eyes, as my vision was lessening as more and more tears formed.
"Mark! Come on!" She groaned exasperatedly. I finally got so tired of her voice, I picked up an old roll of film and threw it at the door with all the energy I could gather up. It hit the door with a loud bang!. I heard Maureen's loud heels click back and her gasp in surprise. I smirked to myself. Score.
"Please? Will you open the door?" she whispered, blunt pain her voice. For a moment, I did consider opening the door. I did actually give it serious thought. In the end, I decided against it. I just remained on my bed, tearful. I heard a soft sob on the other side. "Mark...please? Will you please open the door?" she pleaded.
I finally decided to say something. "It's not up to me. Just let me be..." I trailed off, and let more tears fall down my cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Mark. I really am. Please...I want to see you. Open the door?" she asked again. I refused to give in.
She begged a few more times. But I ignored every desperate plea. I truly wanted to hate her so much. But then I heard her voice. I kept wishing she'd go away, but then I thought about how much I'd miss her if she did.
Finally, I heard a last dejected groan. "Fine! Fine, Mark. You win! I'm leaving."
I heard her stilettos begin to click, and even though I wanted to hate her so much, I panicked. I didn't want her gone! Not at all. "Wait, where're you going?" I asked, loud enough so she could hear me, wherever she was.
"It's not up to me. Just let me be." She quoted my earlier statement and I knew I had to say something quickly.
"Maureen!" I jumped off the bed and padded over to the door, unlocked it, and flung it open. Maureen was standing with her hands on the door, her back to me.
"What about love?" I whispered. "Perhaps, if I made it more clear, that you belong right here, you wouldn't have to go." I didn't care if we were over. I had gotten so used to seeing her shining, gorgeous face every day, I couldn't stand to let that go. "'Cause you know, I'm so much in love--"
Maureen finally turned around to face me. Her eyes were red and puffy and her mascara was running down her cheeks. For a moment, I was tempted to tell her how cool she looked, but I remembered what an emotional moment this was.
She walked over to me and put a finger on my lips. "Please. I love you, Mark. But...not the way you love me. I have someone at home waiting for me. I just wanted to see you one last time." She wrapped her arms around my neck. "Take care of yourself." she gave me a tiny smile and walked out the door, not glancing one more time at me.
I closed my eyes and looked down. Life sucks.
"Woah." a raspy voice said. I looked over and saw Roger standing by the bathroom door. "Mark...I..."
"Just forget it." I shook my head and glanced one more time at the door. Had he been in the freaking bathroom the whole time?
"Umm...do you want a hug?" Roger suggested awkwardly. He slowly outstretched his arms. "...I'm here for you."
I laughed for the first time in what felt like days. I loved Roger. I really did. He just might be the best best friend in the world. I shook my head and wiped my eyes one more time. "No thanks, Rog."
Roger let his arms fall to his side and let out a breath. "Thank god, thats all I had in me."
I chuckled. "I think...I think I'm just gonna go hang out in my room...call Collins or film or something."
"You're gonna film your room?" Roger asked, quirking his eyebrow.
I shrugged. "Why not?"
Roger picked up his guitar from its leaning place against the wall. "Hey, man, whatever floats your boat." Then retreated into his own room, leaving me standing by the door or my room with my hand frozen on the doorknob.
"If you can hear...can I just say...how much I want you to stay?" I tried one last time, and finally understood, she was gone. Forever. We were over, and she moved out. Have fun with your woman, I found myself thinking as I slammed the door to my room again.
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A/N: Yeah...that was crappy, no? Wow, especially bad ending...
Sorry Prongs! I know you're gonna hate it, I'll write something new for you.
I don't know, I'm angsty, so I wanted to write something angsty...but, lets see how this goes over. Be nice!
REVIEW?!
