A/N: Hola my dear readers! Now, as of late, I've been trying to create a character for Mark to fall incredibly in love with. I'm stuck between to girls. The one you're about to read is Lisa Cross, whom I don't like as much as the other, but still like her. The other one is Barbara Gibson, who's personally, my favourite. Since I can't decide, I thought it would be best to let you, the people, choose! Everyone who participates, will get five chances to vote. After you read Barbara and Lisa's first encounters with Mark, you can say which one you like better in a review. Then, I'm going to have a little show down story, where there will be three chapters with a different type of moment with both characters. You can vote on each chapter. Then there will also be a poll on my profile, where you can vote. First girl to twenty is the winner!

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson is the legal owner of RENT, and might I say, brava to his geniusness.

Burns

"March fifteen, three PM, eastern standard time."

Mark Cohen was stuck in his loft, along with his two other roommates, Roger and Mimi, and they were all bored.

"Another exciting day in Alphabet City," Mark said in his narrating tone. "What shall happen today? Maybe I'll finally die of boredom. Maybe Mimi and Roger will laugh when this happens. You never know." He sighed and went to go film the two lovers who were sprawled out on the couch.

"Get the camera away from me," Roger said in a much less threatening voice then he probably intended.

"Oh, don't be mean to him," Mimi said. "He's just bored… Like me." Mark zoomed in as she glared at Roger, as if he were to blame.

"What do you want me to do?" the rocker asked.

"I don't know," she wined. "Entertain me."

"Well, I can't do much with Mr. Albino Spike Lee right here," Roger said and went back to glaring at the camera.

"Really, Roger, you're too nice to me," Mark said sarcastically.

Roger responded by flipping the camera off.

"I'm still bored," Mimi said idly.

"Zoom in on dancer Mimi, who might possibly be bored," Mark said.

"You boys are mean," Mimi said ad stuck her tongue out to the camera.

A blood curling scream suddenly filled the building and everybody jumped in response.

"What was that?" Mimi asked worried.

A smaller, yet still terrifying scream came again.

"Sounds like it's from down stairs," Roger noted, standing off the couch.

"I'll go check it out," Mark said quickly. "Stay at the top of the stairs in case we need to call 911," he told Roger and quickly put his camera, that was still running, down on the table.

He darted for the door and sprinted down the stairs till he got to the next floor. He went to the door of the room across from Mimi's and knocked. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

He heard small whimpers from the other side before the door finally creaked open.

He was met with wet blue eyes and tear stained pale cheeks. The girl who stood before him, who stood to reach just his chin, had one arm stretched out to where it looked uncomfortable, and her other hand facing upwards. She was wearing, what he could only assume to be, a waitress uniform and half of her hair was curled.

"Are you okay? We heard yelling upstairs," he asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, her voice light and airy. "I was, um, curling my hair, and I dropped the curling iron and burnt my arm," she gestured to her extended arm, where he could now see two red lines on her pale skin. "and then, as I was freaking out, I went to go grab it with my hand, and grabbed the hot end," she gestured to her hand, where the palm was almost completely red from the burn. "Yeah, not such a good past five minutes."

"Do you need any help?" Mark quickly offered. It was obvious that she weren't going to be able to do much.

"Um," she looks back into her apartment before looking back at Mark and saying. "If you could come pick up my curling iron off the bathroom floor, so nothing catches on fire, that would be great."

"Sure," Mark said and started to step in the room, until he suddenly heard Roger yelling.

"Mark! Everything okay?!" Roger yelled from the top of the stairs.

Mark backed up and looked up at Roger. "Yeah!" he screamed back. "She just burnt herself! I'm gonna help her out!"

"Kay! Tell her I said thanks for putting a little excitement into the day!" And with that, Roger walked back towards the loft.

Mark looked and the girl and shrugged. She smiled the best she could and stepped aside for him to come in.

When he entered the cozy little apartment, he suddenly felt comfortable. He couldn't describe the feeling but it was just warm and… comfortable.

"The bathroom's over here," the girl said, gesturing to an open door.

Mark walked over and immediately saw the big curler sitting on the floor, right next to a rug. He quickly picked it up by the safe end and unplugged it. "Where do you want me to put it?" he asked.

"Just in the sink," she said, watching him carefully. "I have to let it cool down."

Mark nodded and put the beauty applier in the sink. When he turned back to the girl, he was again, captured by the blue eyes that were now outlined in red. They really were stunning, in their own way. Like an ocean….

Mark shook his head, hoping to get the dumb little poet out of his brain. He was about to stick his hand out for her to shake, but saw the future mistake and quickly demolished that thought. "Mark Cohen," he said simply.

She looked at him for a second. "I'm Lisa Cross, and I know who you are, Mark," she looked a little hurt he didn't remember her, and Mark felt guilty from not remembering her. He quickly racked his brain, to see if her face came into view. She finally told him, "I'm from Life Support."

"Oh," Mark said, seeing a bit of resemblance in her now. Still, he always had a hard time remembering people from Life Support, since they usually just look so depressed, it ruins all of their features.

"Yeah," she nodded and the awkward silence dragged on. "Thanks for your help Mark, but I really have to get ready for work."

"You're going to work?" Mark said, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna bandaged myself up, maybe ice down my burns on my breaks." She looked at her arms, and Mark could see the tears stinging her eyes again.

"You can't go t work, I mean you're a waitress right?" Mark asked.

"Yeah, but whether I burnt or not doesn't mean the bills are suddenly gonna start paying for themselves," she stated.

"Can't you call in sick?" He understood the whole having to get money thing, but she couldn't honestly think she'd be able to do much when her arms would probably b unable to move.

She looked at him, as if thinking about it more logically about the situation. "I could…." she finally sighed. Wordlessly, she went over to what he assumed to be her kitchen and picked up a phone. Once it was in her hand though, she noticed her other hand was still raw and looked at Mark tiredly.

Without a thought about it, Mark went over to her phone. "What's the number?"

She told him in a defeated tone, and held the phone up to her ear when she finished.

Mark stood by, quietly watching.

"Hi, boss. It's Lisa….. Um, yeah, I have to call in sick…. Yes sir, I'm really sick…. Three weeks ago…. Thank you sir….. Yes, I'll back soon…. By sir." She hung up the phone and sighed dramatically. When she looked at Mark she said, "He said it was okay and that I could be sick." She rolled her eyes.

"Are you not sick that often?" Mark asked, remembering that people with HIV usually got sick easier.

"I'm not positive," she said, walking back towards her bathroom.

"Oh," Mark said, suddenly wondering why she had been to Life Support. He started to ask, but she quickly interjected.

"Life Support is for all types of people. I'm a recovering anorexic, and my friend told me to find help. So I did." She shrugged and opened her medicine cabinet.

"Oh, that makes sense," Mark said, going over to help her take down supplies.

"Yeah," she said, pushing some things around in the cabinet. "I can't find the ace bandages….." she grumbled, mostly to herself.

"Here it is," Mark said, going to reach it from a higher shelf. There hands brushed and Mark felt bolts of energy burst through him. He tried to ignore it, concentrating on the bandage he was grabbing. He pulled it down and grabbed all of the stuff she had pulled out.

"You don't have to help," she said as they walked towards the kitchen.

"I don't mind," Mark said, setting the stuff on the counter, and saving all of the stuff that tried to roll off.

She didn't respond, but then say stop him and kick him out either. Mark, who luckily had fixed up many Roger's burns, motioned for Lisa to sit down. She did and Mark gently gripped her forearm of the arm that had two burn marks. He started applying ointment, and when he saw he whimper and wince, he figured he should distract her.

"So, where do you work?" he asked.

"A burger joint on the other side of town," she said. She winced and shuddered a breath.

"What's it called?" Mark asked, still trying to distract her.

"The Best Cow," she stated and closed her eyes. "It's…. It's a gross pit, but it pays good…. Better then my other job…"

"You have two jobs?" Mark asked, stunned and accidentally pushed to hard on her arm with the ointment. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Yeah…. I also baby sit for this family on the weekends…. The kids are brats and the parents don't believe in tips," She had stopped wincing so much, and Mark knew he had to keep her talking.

"Why do you work there then?"

"Money. One job pays the bills, the other buys food."

"Makes sense," Mark said and he was finishing up.

"You deal with burns a lot?" Lisa suddenly asked.

"My friend went through a bit of a pyro phase," Mark said. "He'd gotten burnt more then a fireman."

Lisa giggled.

Mark finished up her arm and went to grab her hand. "So, tell me something about yourself," Mark asked.

"I hate it when I'm helpless," she stated simply. Mark chuckled. "Sorry if I seem anti-social or something, I'm just not liking this whole, can't-do-anything-by-myself thing. Kind of pisses me off."

"I understand. My friends like that."

"You're not?" she asked, opening her eyes finally.

"I accept help when I need it. Doesn't mean I go begging people to do stuff I can do though."

Lisa nodded and watched as he finished up her hand. Once he was done, she made the mistake of trying to move it. "Shit…" she muttered and immediately stretched it out.

"You want some ice?" Mark asked.

"That'd be nice, please," Lisa said. "Ice is in the freezer. Theirs bags on the top of the fridge."

Mark nodded and stood up.

He was getting a bag down, when Lisa started to talk again. "So, do you just make films?"

"Yeah, I'm still working on that documentary," he told her, putting ice in the bag.

"That's cool…. I saw that segment on the news around Christmas," she said. "It was really good. My cousins a cop and I made him watch it, he said the brutality of the cops on that film made every other officer look bad."

"It did," Mark said and nodded. "Here." He put the bag of ice on the palm of her hand and she hissed in pain.

"Jeez…. This really sucks." She looked at her hand sympathetically.

"Do want anything else?" Mark asked, compelled to stay with her as long as she wanted.

She glanced at him and he swore her cheeks had a tinge of pink. She looked away and muttered, "Ice cream…"

Mark chuckled and smiled. "Okay, do you have any?" At her nod he stood up and went back over to the freezer. He pulled out a tub that read "Rocky Road" and grabbed a spoon after she directed him to where they were. He brought them over to her and opened the lid up for her. "I'm guessing you don't want me to feed you," Mark joked.

"I'd like to keep the little bit of dignity I have left, thank you very much." Lisa snatched the spoon from him jokingly and managed to get a spoonful of the ice cream. "Yum," she said after she swallowed.

Mark chuckled and watched as she ate. She was having to push the tub against her good arm and dig the rocky road out with her good hand. It was amusing to him, and he couldn't help the smile that crept on his face.

After a moment or two, she looked at him, obviously curios as to why he as staring at her. "Y'ant some?" she said through a mouthful. She swallowed, and said more politely. "Do you want some?"

Mark chuckled and shook his head. "I'm more of a vanilla man."

Lisa rolled her eyes playfully and said, "Vanilla is so boring."

Mark shrugged. "I like it."

A few minutes goes by of Mark just watching her eat. Finally she put the spoon down and said, "Well, that was good."

Mark chuckled again and put the lid back on the ice cream. "Glad you're satisfied."*

"Thanks for helping me and stuff," Lisa muttered.

"It wasn't a problem," Mark said, putting the ice cream away. "Do you want anything else?" he didn't want to leave her just yet. He wanted to sit by her and talk to her. She was interesting and he hadn't wanted to interact with a girl since Maureen dumped him.

"Not now," she said. She looked at him and smiled shyly. "But maybe you could come check on me every once in awhile…. Like tomorrow… Say, seven-ish?"

Mark stared at her for a second. Did she just ask him out? He kept looking at her and she just smiled back. "Sure," was all he could think to say back. Then, he decided, as to not sound like a total dumb ass, added, "I would be more then happy to check on you tomorrow." He smiled back at her, and her cheeks tinted pink again.

He walked over to her, pretending to be checking on her arm. "Don't do anything dangerous, like blow dry your hair. That probably wouldn't end good." He laughed and she giggled.

"Thank you, Mark." She leaned in a quickly kissed his cheek. She stood up and ushered him to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, he was out the door.

He smiled and started walking back up stairs; anxious for tomorrow.

The End

A/N: So's do you like her? Or do you like Barbara better? Her story is up on my profile, as is the poll. The showdown will be up sometime next week. So yeah vote and help poor Marky out!

Review my darlings! I precious each and every review like a pretty pretty diamond.

Vote too please!