(A/N: Hello hello! Alright, this is the RENT crossover sequal to Living or Enduring. If you have not read Living or Enduring, then you really should because this story will be referring to a lot of things that took place from the first story, Livign or Enduring. But if you don't want to read, I think you could still understand most of what goes on in this story. If you don't know much about RENT, that's alright, I won't make this story all RENT-ified so that you need to have seen RENT to understand this story. If you don't approve of the RENT crossover, my apologies, but this is what I decided to do. This is mostly an introduction chapter, you might find the majority of this chapter boring, but read it anyway, especially if you don't know what RENT is. Remeber, reviews are much loved, so review if you can. Thank you!)

Mark Cohen sat in a coffee shop, brooding over just being dumped. Yes, he had just been dumped by Maureen Johnson, whom he'd had a crush on since the third grade. Yeah, you could call him pathetic, but in the end he got the girl didn't he? And then....well, he lost the girl. He lost the girl to another girl. Now that was something he didn't see coming. Maureen Johnson was known for being unpredictable, but this was so unpredictable, Mark was still in shock. Maureen Johnson was very well, the prettiest most beautiful most amazing girl that Mark had ever met. She had pale skin, emerald eyes and dark brown hair that was slightly curly. He was probably the least likely guy on the planet she'd date. He was nerdy, not buff or extremely handsome, which is the type someone would expect a girl like Maureen to date. She and Mark were great friends though and had been for ages. Hopefully this awkwardness between him and her would blow over soon enough.

Joanne Jefferson; that was the lawyer Maureen left him for. He did not know much about Joanne, nor did he ever want to. All he knew was that she was African-American, rich, a lawyer and a female...a female that Maureen was dating. Other than that, he would remain completely and utterly far away from Joanne; the rotten lawyer who'd stolen his girlfriend's heart and broken his. He stirred his cup of tea around with a straw, pondering the recent or not so recent happenings of his life.

His best friend Roger had just moved out of the loft they had shared for a year. Straight out of high school they headed for New York, because they believed they were artists. Roger and his guitar/song writing and Mark with his film making. Ha, they came down from that dream real quick. Roger was like a soft rocker. He had the dirty blonde wavy hair that attracted the girls and he had the looks that other guys killed for. Mark and Roger were both only 18, though Roger would be 19 in a month. They'd skipped college, because in New York, you didn't need a degree to be an artist. Right? But besides that, who had money for college anyway?

Roger wasn't moving all too far away though, just to the loft below, with Mimi. Mimi was his girlfriend of a grand three months. She was (until three months ago) known as "the dancer from the Cat Scratch Club". The Cat Scratch, for lack of a more pleasant word, was a strip club and Mimi was their number one dancer. She was a Latino with brown skin, brown hair and wide brown eyes. She wasn't a slut or bad person as one might think, but it was just a way of making money.

And then there was Collins. Tom, but everyone knew him as Collins. He was 21, and really smart. Mark wondered why Collins, with a brain like that, would waste away in the trashy parts of New York with his friends. Seems it's because Collins doesn't like selling out, he believes what he believes and most people don't believe what he does. He knows he could be living large if he just went with the flow, but then he wouldn't be Collins. Collins got teaching gigs now and then, but he usually got expelled for his theories. He also had a girlfriend, or was it a boyfriend? A lover, we'll call him---she? a lover. His lover was Angel. Angel was a drag queen, and she was one of the few that could look good in drag. Collins and Angel lived in the apartment above Mark's, they'd just recently moved in.

And of course, mustn't forget our golden boy Mark. Mark was, for lack of better description....Mark. He loved photography and filming. He never went anywhere without his camera. He had that nerdy look about him, those glasses that he was always pushing up the bridge of his nose, and that striped scarf that didn't even leave his neck in the summer. Yeah, that was Mark for you. So, that was basically Mark's life, him and the bohos (for that is what they called themselves, short for bohemians), basically a bunch of teenagers who'd skipped college to become artists in New York City. Mark could not say he was unsatisfied with his life, he'd just hoped for more out of it. But what he had was more than what most people in this shit city had, so he was happy. So life was normal, or at least normal by the boho standards and it was smooth and uneventful. Mark got up to leave when the manager came rushing at him, a guy about 2 or 3 years older than himself, so manager was king of an overstatement.

"Whoa now, you haven't paid for your tea." the manager said.

"What tea?" asked Mark. He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts, he'd forgotten the tea, which he was still holding.

"The tea in your hand." said the manager.

"Oh, that tea." said Mark, feeling stupid, "Yeah..." Mark dug around in his pockets for money.....none, "I don't actually have any money with me at the....moment." Moment, yeah, if moment meant life, Mark never had money, nobody ever had money.

"Fine, I'll take an: I owe you." the manager growled before snatching the half empty cup of tea and marching away. Yep, that guy was definitely gay. Mark walked into the cold winter air into the thick crowds scrambling down the street. He could see is breath in the cold as he struggled to get through the crowd.

"Excuse me sir," Mark was saying every now and then. He didn't know why he bothered with manners, no one else did, but that was just Mark. He was raised to be polite, he didn't curse very often, which made one person in this city. So that is why, rather than pushing and shoving as everyone else did, Mark said 'Excuse me sir,' or 'Excuse me ma'am' every five seconds. Finally he reached his corner. He turned the corner and immediately, the crowds were gone. He walked down the alley behind his loft, whistling softly as he walked. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of blue and white light; he was blown back by some invisible force. Oh, how Mark wished he could've caught that moment on his camera. Mark, cursing under his breath (which he hardly ever did) sat up, righting his glasses that had blown askew on his face. He picked himself up and looked around. No one else seemed to notice, well, no one else was exactly there. He stared at a bright pulsing light in the center of the alley that seemed to be slowly fading. Mark wondered whether he should stay and see what happened or leave before anything else blew up. His curiosity got the best of him, and he stayed. When the bright pulsing light finally faded, he was glad he had stayed. For their in the place of the light, were the two most beautiful girls Mark had ever seen. One was a short blonde with bouncy curls, an angelic type face, pale skin and beautiful blue eyes, that were at the moment, shimmering with tears. The other was a thin, but delicate girl with silky black hair, a beautiful face and...green skin. Mark could not see her eyes, because they were closed. The green girl appeared to be unconscious. The blonde was leaning over her, tears slipping through her eyes rapidly as she desperately tried to wake her friend.

"Elphie, oh Elphie, please, please wake up!" the blonde cried. There was no response. Mark was utterly stunned; he did not know what to do, he felt intrusive, yet at the same time, he felt as though he ought to do something. So he was glad when the next moment, the blonde was turning her tear-stained face to stare at him. Galinda felt as though she was being watched, and she whirled around to see a boy (or was he a man?) with spiky blonde hair, rectangular framed glasses and skin paler than hers.

"Please, will you help me?!" she cried, after looking around the alley to find no one else there. Mark nodded and hurried forward. Without thinking, he knelt down and picked up the thin green girl in his arms. He was surprised at how light she was. Perhaps he'd gotten stronger eh? No, she was just practically weightless. A sudden wave of protectiveness filled his chest as he held the girl in his arms.

"C'mon," said Mark, addressing the blonde. He carefully hurried up the steps to his loft, "We can take her to my loft and help her from there." Galinda nodded and hurried after him, never letting her eyes stray from dear Elphie.

*********************

Fiyero stared at the article, rereading it for the umpteenth time. And still he could not believe what he was reading. According to the article, a Wicked Witch had been created. She had cursed monkeys by mutilating them. She had supposedly done it because her own self was mutilated by green skin. The monkeys had sprouted wings and were now being held in captivity by the Wizard. This Wicked Witch apparently unlocked some portal to another world and kidnapped Miss Galinda Upland and now they were both gone from Oz. Gone. That seemed to be the only word that echoed in Fiyero's head. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. And then...Forever. It was said that no one could ever get into another world, and that Oz was sealed off completely, so how was Elphaba supposed to get back; back to him? Fiyero had no powers, how was he supposed to get to her? How could he ever see her again?

Fiyero soon found himself slipping into what he had been when Elphaba had stopped speaking to him those precious months ago before he'd ever even admitted his love. Then, he hadn't even felt what it was like to be loved by Elphaba Thropp, and losing her had been horrible. Now he knew what it was like to be loved by Elphaba and it was unbearable. He started with one bottle, but that wasn't enough, he had a second which was soon followed by a third and a fourth and fifth.....

Fiyero had come back to the Vinkus with his parents some time ago. He couldn't stay at Shiz. Just as everyone had started accepting Elphaba, she was now a Witch to all societies. Everyone said: I knew that was what was to come of her. How could anyone with green skin be good anyway? Fiyero had punched the first person he'd heard say that, which just so happened t be Marissa. He'd never punched a girl, but he could not help but think she deserved it. He hoped the bruise on her face stuck for the rest of her life. It'd been a three weeks since he'd read that article for the first time, and since reading it, he had started drinking.

His parents were concerned. They knew that Fiyero's hope of ever seeing his love again was nearly 1 in a million. And they knew that Fiyero was well aware of this. They let Fiyero be, not bothering him, they didn't even tell him to stop drinking. But as the third week started, Rolfe was getting frustrated and couldn't stand by any longer. Is this what his son was to come to be? A drunk? Weak and miserable, heart shattered and hopes forever stamped out? No, he would not let his son become that. He went to Fiyero's room and pounded harshly on the door.

"Fiyero Tiggular, you open this door right now, or I'll break it down!" Rolfe yelled. Servants in the hall stopped to watch, peering at them behind the walls they hid behind. The staff had seen what had happened to their dear once jovial prince. He never came out of his room, if only to get another case of beer. There was no reply from inside the room. So Rolfe followed through with his threat and broke the door down. He stormed in to find Fiyero's eyes bloodshot, his face stone, his hair unruly, his clothes disheveled, bags beneath his eyes, hunched over on the couch, a bottle predictably in his hand. Fiyero didn't even look up when his Father entered.

"Fiyero," Rolfe said in a low voice, "Put that bottle down. You've had enough."

"I don't think so." said Fiyero, taking another swig of beer.

"It doesn't matter what you think. I am your father and I am telling you to stop now." Rolfe ordered. Fiyero's only answer was to take another long drink. Rolfe felt his anger reach a high.

"Look what you're becoming. Do you think this will help you? Do you think Elphaba would approve of this?" Rolfe asked, he'd have to make Fiyero face his life.

"Don't talk about her." Fiyero muttered.

"Who? The Wicked Witch?" asked Rolfe. He did not really think Elphaba was a Wicked Witch, but he needed to snap Fiyero, make him feel something, even if it was only anger. Anger was better than feeling nothing at all, which was how Fiyero had been, numb to feeling and emotion.

"Don't call her that!" Fiyero roared, throwing the bottle down and standing up to face his father, fists clenched at his side. The bottle shattered, sending glass bits sliding across the floor in all directions. Neither man flinched.

"But it's what she is!" Rolfe declared.

"No it's not!" yelled Fiyero, "How could you say that?!"

"You love her?!" Rolfe challenged, changing tactics to keep Fiyero feeling and thinking.

"Of course I do!" Fiyero yelled, outraged.

"Then what are you doing wasting away here?!" Rolfe yelled, "How will you ever find her if you're drunk ninety-nine percent of the time?!"

"Find her?!" yelled Fiyero, "How could I ever find her?! She's not even in Oz anymore!"

"So you don't want to find her?!" Rolfe accused, "I knew it!"

"I do!" Fiyero cried, his anger turning to desperation. Rolfe detected the change in Fiyero's tone, but he kept at his act.

"Then why the hell aren't you out there looking for her?!"

"It is impossible to find her!" Fiyero yelled.

"How would you know? You haven't even tried!" Rolfe yelled, frustrated himself now, "You don't want to find her. Who can say if you even love her?"

"I do love her! You don't think I wouldn't give anything to find her?! But she's gone, and I will never see her again!" Fiyero yelled, "Never again."

"So instead of searching, you'd rather drink your days away? At least searching would be something. Who knows, maybe you would find her." said Rolfe.

"I wouldn't." said Fiyero. Rolfe then drew his hand back and struck his son across the face.

"You don't love her enough to even try?" Rolfe hissed, "Then you are more pathetic than I believed and she for one deserves better than you." Fiyero drew his fist back, ready to hit, but Rolfe knew he wouldn't. Fiyero's arm dropped to his side and he sank to his knees, his hands covered his face.

"I have to find her." he muttered, "I mean I have to." his words were coated with despair.

"Yes you do," Rolfe agreed, his angry tone instantly turning fatherly and concerned, "Fiyero, what do you think Elphaba would say if she came back to find you drunk and as you are. She would not even know it was you. And who else is there to search for her? Everyone else believes her something wicked. Who else is there but you Fiyero? She needs you. Fiyero, you need to know that this task is not impossible, you'll find her. I know you will."

"But what if I can't?"

"Then you can't. You'll just have to keep living. But if you give up and don't even try, I guarantee you'll never find her, and you'll never see her again." Rolfe said. Fiyero's head shot up at the word 'never'. His eyes were no longer bloodshot, but filled with a fierce determination. He would find her, because what was life without Elphaba anyway? And if not for himself, than for her. And so began Fiyero's search for Elphaba.

******************

Mark hurried into the loft which he never kept locked and laid the green girl on the table, the first flat surface he saw. Galinda went to her friend and grabbed her hand.

"Elphie, please be alright. Please wake up." Galinda cried. Mark hurried to the sink to get some water, Galinda saw what he was doing.

"No!" she screamed, "Don't you dare!" Mark looked confused and carefully turned off the sink.

"She's allergic." Galinda muttered at his confused look.

"It's just water, don't worry." said Mark, "It's not like its acid."

"To her it is!" Galinda shrieked. Mark approached the table again and gently (so as not to frighten the frantic blonde) checked the green girl's heartbeat, it was normal. He laid the back of his hand against her forehead, she didn't seem to have fever. He wondered what had caused her to go into such a state. Suddenly, the girl gasped and her eyes snapped open. Oh, so her eyes were brown.

"Elphie!" Galinda cried and hugged her friend.

"Galinda, what happened?" asked Elphaba, feeling light-headed as she slowly sat up.

"You did a spell and--" Galinda began but was immediately cut off.

"Wait, what are you talking about? I don't know how to do magic." said Elphaba.

"Elphie, what are you talking about, you've had magic abilities since you were a child." Galinda said, "Remember on the first day of Shiz you--"

"I went to Shiz?" Elphaba asked in shock. Shiz had been her dream university.

"Yes, Elphie, don't you remember? We were roommates. You came with Nessarose--" Galinda began again.

"Who's Nessarose?" Elphaba questioned.

"Dear Oz Elphaba!" Galinda cried, growing concerned now, "She's your sister!" Elphaba stared at her blankly. And Galinda suddenly got the horrible idea of what was happening, "Elphie, tell me who Fiyero Tiggular is."

"How am I supposed to know?!" Elphaba cried.

"Oh. My. Oz." Galinda said, before fainting. Luckily Mark caught her before she hit the floor.