Author's Note: I don't own RENT or its characters. They are property of Mr Larson and family.
This is an AU fic, set at around the time RENT is.
This chapter is Collins' experiences.
Mark's Boyfriend
Chapter 1
I wipe the spoon on the only dishcloth in our loft (which has seen better days) and dunk it into the bowl of Cap'n Crunch, milk sploshing over the side of the bowl onto the already soiled countertop. I alternate the joint in my right hand with the spoon in my left – a damn good breakfast. My mind is on the essay I'm writing for an NYU philosophy journal. I've gotta hit up the NY Public Library after breakfast (and a shower, if the water's hot), to get some books for research. I'm just outlining my thesis in my head when Roger plonks down on a stool across the counter from me, entering my line of vision and snapping me out of the essay.
"What's up man?" I say, glad to see him up before noon and taking some interest in breakfast.
"Nothin' much" he shrugs, eating from the box with his fingers and without milk.
"If Mark was here, he'd freak" I chuckle, nodding to the box.
"Oh, dude, did you hear?" (I'm surprised to see the traces of something that was once a sparkle in Rog's eyes, as he gossips like high school cheerleader.) "Mark's on a date."
"No way!" my own eyes light up at the prospect.
"I know, man, that's what I said." We both laugh. "But it's true. He was telling me about it on his way out earlier. I wasn't really listening, I'd only jus' woke up… But...uh…apparently they've been together a few weeks. He seemed really happy."
"Well, who'da thought it. Good for him, that's great. I'm glad he found someone."
"Yeah, maybe he'll finally stop runnin' 'round after Maureen now and they can both move on and forget it ever happened" We laugh again – poor Mark. I really am happy for him.
"Bit of a weird time for a date, though, ten am?"
"Don't ask me, that's what I thought. From what he says, this person's apparently something special. Bit…um…different, ya know?"
"Makin' the effort to get up early for a date, I'd call that special. Dedicated at least."
We both chuckle, to ourselves really, because it's not like either of us can talk when neither of us has seen action for at least three weeks in Roger's case, and in mine a lot longer. Not that I'm bothered, I don't go looking for romantic stuff, if it's gona happen for me, it will. And considering my current circumstances, I doubt it will, so there's no point trying to push it and getting upset about it. Doesn't mean I wouldn't like to though. Doesn't mean I don't think about it sometimes, havin' someone to share things with…I just don' know right now who that person would be. I wouldn' even know what to look for if I was on the...lookout, or whatever they're callin' it these days. Maybe I'm the lone, dependable type. Mark's the type that needs affection though. I was gettin' worried for him, I'm glad he's got something good goin'.
"Well more power to him. That's my boy." I proclaim as I toss both the empty bowl and the remains of the joint in the sink, to do later. Roger's chair scrapes as he gets up, only to plonk down on the couch, staring out the window, our conversation already forgotten, a song in his head as he reaches for his guitar.
Fuck the shower, I wanna get started on this research.
"I'm goin' to the library, be back later." I call on my way out, even though I know he's not listenin'.