Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own RENT. I know; it's a shocker.
Mimi
Mimi wears red nail polish.
When she was seventeen years old, she found out. She had HIV, all from a stupid mistake at a stupid club. She gave up completely: she was a stripper; she was a junkie; now she was going to die, and she was a teenage runaway. That was when she stopped caring about her appearance; why should she bother? For the first time since she was twelve, she stopped wearing nail polish.
Then she met Angel. It had been an accident, really, but it changed her entire outlook on life. Something about the drag queen's optimism had gotten to her, had reached beneath her skin. Yes, she was a junkie, dying, seventeen year old stripper; so what? She was still Mimi Marquez and she was still fighting. She knew that she would keep fighting for the rest of her life, even if it was cut cruelly short. Her fire would keep her going.
And that's why she wears red nail polish.
Maureen
Maureen wears pink nail polish.
She had loved Mark, really. At least, she thought she had. But...he wasn't enough. She needed danger, excitement. She needed to go out, meet people, be seen. And if some of those people had wanted to see more...well, who was she to say no? At that point, she had worn red nail polish; she was a seductress and she knew it.
Then she met Joanne. All of a sudden, she had started feeling silly. Joanne was a lawyer; Joanne meant something. Joanne helped unwed mothers in Harlem. What did she do? Cheat on her boyfriend with random guys, sit around, and try to get acting jobs. That was when she started protesting; she was Maureen Johnson and would stand up for something. That was also when she stopped sleeping with random guys; she just slept with one, not quite so random girl. Sure, she would still be friendly, and she still needed to be seen, but she would not cheat. Not on Joanne. She was not a seductress anymore; she was a flirt.
And that's why she wears pink nail polish.
Joanne
Joanne wears white nail polish.
She was the first to admit; she was not feminine. She had gone to a good school, gotten a good job; she had never really had time for make up, boys, and clothes. She had never really thought about her appearance. However, she knew that she had to look proper, if nothing else. She cared for her fingernails to a certain extent, but she never even considered painting them; why would she waste money and time like that?
Then she met Maureen. Maureen was...well, Maureen. What else could you really say about the drama queen? She had never thought about dating before, but when she met Maureen...but Maureen was beautiful. Sure, she was not ugly, but she was not beautiful. She had never cared before. So when Maureen was still interested in her, for some bizarre, unknowable reason, she knew that she had to care. She had to try. She would never wear flowered dresses or six inch heels; she might not even wear a bra most of the time. But she was Joanne Jefferson and she would try.
And that's why she wears white nail polish.
Angel
Angel wears blue nail polish.
She had always known she was different, even back when she was a he. He had never been able to talk sports effortlessly, or been interested in cars. Even in kindergarten, he would rather play house with the girls than play blocks with the boys. Then one day in high school, he had been hanging out at his friend's house, fiddling with the make up on Katie's dresser, and became a she. From the moment she applied the red violet nail polish, she knew that this was where she belonged.
Then she met Mimi. That day, she had really experienced prejudice for the first time. Sure, she had run into nastiness now and then, but she had been remarkably lucky. She had escaped the really bigoted people. Without thinking, she referred to herself as a man for the first time in years. Then she started thinking. Why had she done that? She was not a he; she was a she. It had been so completely and unquestionably since she was fifteen. Then she had realized; she had wanted to make a point. She knew that the statement was bold and fairly strange, but...she was male, in body if not in mind, was she not? And maybe, just maybe, she should start showing it. Oh, she would never stop dressing the way she felt comfortable, or acting the way she did, but she was Angel Dumott Schunard and she had a penis and a sense of humor. She was definitely secure enough to joke.
And that's why she wears blue nail polish.
A/N: So that was my first fanfic ever. Hope you enjoyed.
Oh, and about Angel...that was not exactly supposed to be taken seriously. The blue is not supposed to state her masculinity; it's a sort of sarcastic joke. She's saying, "You want me to be more masculine? Well, blue's masculine, right?" Also, speaking of Angel, I have a vague, unformed idea for a sort of a companion piece to this about her, but I'm not sure about it. If I get some interest, I'll post it.