If you've gotten this far- welcome! Having been doing theatre so many years, it's a damn shame that I've never seen Rent until this past week. Of course I loved it, and was happy to join the cult. Still, being new...forgive me if I make a few mistakes in the canon. Let me know! Also, I'm trying to follow, in my chapters, the Broadway musical number list- thought I'd clue you in. ;)
Rated M for future scenes of sexiness.
Disclaiming Stuff: Obviously I don't own Rent. Yada, yada...
Introduction that was too long for the actual introduction: Evolution de Boheme! To contentment, resentment, jealousy, creativity. To learning, page turning, coaster rides and changing tides. To friendship, kinship, take out and making out. To napping on the floor. To embarrassment, fulfillment, technological advances, romances, last changes. To always wanting more.
Mark dug through his pockets until his fingers closed around a god-knows-how-old piece of gum. He popped it in his mouth and chewed. It was about noon, and he was hungry. Only two weeks without a job, and already his carefully saved cash was gone. Mark wondered how he'd managed this way before. It was a kind of torture- his stomach aching from hunger, the shame he felt at being such a damn failure. What twenty six year old guy couldn't keep a job? What twenty six year old guy had to take charity from his ex girlfriend and her rich, lesbian partner? For the first time in years, the video camera hanging from his shoulder felt like heavy, a burden.
Two hours ago he'd "stepped out" for some "fresh air". It seemed that was all he ever did now. Wake up, eat a bag of peanuts or something for breakfast, then make some excuse to escape his loft-turned-love shack. It was becoming unbearable being inside. Roger and Mimi. The first few months their relationship was refreshing, even cute. The next few months, it became normal, everyday life. The next two years- steadily more and more painful. Mark new it was immature to be so jealous of his friends' happiness, but it was about time for him to find his own…wasn't it? Mark deserved that much, didn't he? The past few gloomy days, he was beginning to doubt even that.
Mark looked up from his shoddy shoes tapping the pavement and realized he was back at his doorstep. He sighed. It was starting to get uncomfortable outside, anyway. Hot, muggy, smelly. Mark stepped over the used condom near the dying foliage and walked back inside, up the stairs. There were whispers coming from inside the apartment. Mark stopped, his hand hesitating over the sliding door's handle. He could catch a few snatches of whispered conversation.
"….I've been feeling really…"
"Me too. I'm worried about…"
"There must be something we can…"
"…been so long since he's had someone to…"
"I know some girls. Nice girls who…"
"Nice for Mark? You know…"
"Yeah. I know. Maybe…"
Mark stepped back from the door, his heart seeming to be pushed tightly against his chest. So they worried about him? Pitied him? Mimi wanted to set him up? He snorted. Roger was right. It would be doubtful if any of her friends were "nice, for him". Mark wondered why, amidst all the creativity and art that surrounded him in this city, he hadn't found someone as passionate as Maureen, but calming like…Roger? A strange comparison in the context, but true. Mark wanted someone he could trust. Not Maureen. Someone he felt he could be completely himself around. Not Maureen. Someone who would appreciate him, his ideas…not Maureen.
Somewhere inside the apartment, the phone began to ring.