Rent is copyrighted to Jonathan Larson, hence, fan fiction. Anyways, I decided to take my hand at some humor and some lines of Rent I have always wondered about. This will probably be a few chapters depending on how many lines sound funny taken out of context. I am more then willing to take suggestions for lines and whatnot. This time it's from Santa Fe. Please read and review! Please please please check out my story "How Could We Loose Angel?" it had never made it to the main page, and I had worked so hard on it. By the way, I just like the word 'Suburbia'. I know it doesn't fit at all.
I'm shouting in my sleep I need a muzzle…
One of the many lines her lover had spoken of when they went out on that old familiar subway. The air was crisp as it was autumn, and freezing cold. The pale moon made it nearly impossible as it flooded the small apartment room. Not bringing much joy to the young couple. Well, at least, one of them. Angel to be exact. She had always been a light sleeper, and well, it would take up to three minutes for her lover to be snoring. That's not what bothered her though. It was just the light.
Not much mind was paid attention to those few lines, and learning about Collins' being a teacher. But that information not being taken advantage of could have some horribly unfortunate consequences. Pulling the sheet over a little more Angel groaned softly with anxiety. She always had so much energy and nighttime was no exception. Quite a few of the bohemians smiled upon that constant burst of energy. Little did they know it resulted from sleep depravation.
Suddenly, out of apparently nowhere… There was a loud yell and Angel practically shrieked out of surprise. Falling out of bed, and in a panicked state, ran out the bedroom door with just her silk pajamas on. She thought someone was trying to break into the house. Stumbling into the kitchen clumsily this-out of drag queen-reached for the kitchen knife and nearly killed herself by running right back out of the room. Thus, nearly falling on the knife. When one was tired, their sense of wrong and right would always be tragically skewed. "Collins!" The dark haired drag queen shrieked. "Someone's trying to get into the house!" Of course there was no reply. The shouting had stopped, and it was completely silent. Upon inspection the door was locked and closed as well.
Looking rather confused Angel walked back to the bedroom, knife in tote. When Collins had looked up from being awakened by his own shouting he looked terrified. "Angel! What's wrong with you baby?" He was now sitting up and staring at his lovely little drag queen holding a knife and tiredly walking towards him. Honestly it was the last thing he had expected. "I didn't mean what I said about your purse! It may be kinda weird, but that's ok. Just calm down… Please baby?"
A confused expression leapt on her face and then a raised brow. Holding up the knife in an almost threatening fashion she asked, "What? This? Honey, I thought someone was trying to get into the house… I heard this loud yelling and everything…" Her voice horribly worn and apprehensive. Why did they have to be the couple that was like some sort of horribly and desperately written comedic drama? A couple whose lives are normal by day, and just plain messed up by night. In all honesty, they probably had the strangest relationship.
"Y-yeah… About that purse of course." Shuffling back off to the kitchen dark eyes paranoid scanned the dark area surrounding her. Dropping off her 'weapon of choice' Angel decided that one might as well leave well enough alone. If anything, it was learned that the 'perfect couple' would have to deal with their far less then perfect quarks.
The night had continued on just as normal as it could've for quite some time. It didn't seem as though the reason of the unpredictable yelling would be explained, and if so, it probably wouldn't have made very much sense at all. Yet, one is never certain of what kinds of things could happen with a lifestyle like this. Just like that song 'something something on my left…' Either way, what sense could be derived from that would be just as difficult as getting Roger to cooperate with simple thought patterns… Or just simply understanding that when you yell at someone to leave you alone with your guitar… that you defiantly shouldn't drag them back inside only to screech more. And thus, now onto the story of very few and many proportions.
The sun had crept into the small apartment forbidding any chance of sleeping in. The small Latino was usually the first to wake up with a perky demeanor and that certain look of joy… Not this time. Nope, this time the professor whom was known to run about butt naked proclaiming the wonders of anarchy had awakened first. Shuffling out of the bedroom after groggily stumbling out of bed Angel had yawned softly. Greeted by a cup of coffee and a gentle kiss and a sweet 'good morning', it seemed as though waking up was worth it. "Did you sleep good lover?"
Collins, well, Collins hadn't slept better in his life. Primal screaming was always a form of reliving stress, and normally people did it when they had the time to be alone. Not this anarchist, nope. He had done it when he was completely unaware of his surroundings, and in the presence of his lover. "Never slept better." A cheerful grin slipped into his face, perhaps in the triumph of just making his little love look livelier. "And you?"
A half meant smile and a reply of, "Wish I was you." Taking a sip of that coffee the couch was soon found, and a sigh of relief as the morning weight was taken off her feet. Snuggling up to the pillow and pulling the blanket near Angel felt like just going back to sleep. The simple yell was all it took to keep her awake thinking about what the heck that was, and the possibilities of having someone enter while neither of them was home.
The weight on the couch was shifted and a small show of affection announced the specific other. Nuzzling his Angel's neck Collins seemed as though he had something to say. Something to confess. "Hey baby…" A sweet sincere whisper. "I have quite a bit to tell you…" A raised brow was the reply he had gotten, but still an eager listener was in tact. "That yelling… That was me… Work get's stressful yah know?" A slight choke on coffee on Angel's part. "Why didn't you tell me that at first? I was up all night thinking someone was going to come and hurt us!" A little louder screech then this little drag queen had regrettably intended. Seeing her lover's puppy dog eyes and cute forlorn and upset face her expression had softened. "It's ok honey… I still love you. But for goodness sakes you need a muzzle from how loud you yell in your sleep… Can't believe Roger and Mark didn't warn me about that."
"They can sleep through anything." Collins mumbled thinking about those strange strange times with his friends. "Peace babe?"
"Close enough." A giggle accompanied by that simple reply.
The end was a little rushed and I'm very tired. Well anyways, please check out my other story too and whatnot. Please leave reviews for both of them! And constructive criticism.