Disclaimer: Totally don't own RENT
Author's Note: This is preRENT and will be Mark/Roger eventually. For right now it's just friendship. The rating will also go up. If you're still around after all that, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.
Connection – Chapter One
Another boy might have been angry. Another boy might have gone over there, perhaps even hit one or both of them. And another might even have cried.
But Mark didn't do any of these things. Mark lifted his camera and took a picture of Nanette kissing another boy under a tree in front of their high school, and then he began his walk home.
It wasn't that he didn't mind, because he certainly did, and it wasn't because he had been expecting it, because he hadn't been. But watching Nanette kiss someone else forced the part of himself that felt completely out of his mind. A few minutes later, Mark couldn't even remember what or how he felt while standing in front of the school and watching. He remembered being there, and he obviously knew quite well that it had happened.
But that was just it, really. It had happened and he had accepted it and was moving on. He didn't think he possessed the emotional stamina to feel what he was sure had been gripping tightly around his heart watching his girlfriend standing on her toes to reach the lips of another, her arms around his neck and his hands in her back pockets.
No, Mark really didn't have the energy for that.
He turned his camera over in his hands, adjusting his backpack. He had a car, but somehow the short distance between his home and the school seemed to be a wasted trip in a car, unless the weather was bad. He wasn't sure what he was looking for on these walks. He didn't even need the time alone. And it wasn't as though he couldn't pay for the gas money. Maybe he just liked to walk. He wasn't really sure.
He mused that the world seemed to be a very dismal place today, even though the skies were clear enough, the temperature mild, and the breeze just warm and comforting enough without being overbearing. It all made for a wonderful day.
Mark was, however, somewhere else entirely.
He thought perhaps that he would call Nanette later, and see if she wanted to catch a movie. And then he remembered that Nanette probably wouldn't be home tonight. She seemed to have more pressing issues on hand than spending time with her boyfriend.
So Mark took a picture of a tree, without an unfaithful girlfriend beneath it, and continued walking home. He could catch a movie by himself, maybe. Or maybe he'd just start making his own.
His mother swooped on him immediately, routine as usual, when he came through the front door. She pushed a plate of food at him, told him to brush his hair, asked for clothes to be washed and reminded him to do his homework tonight instead of waiting until Sunday. Mark took the plate and agreed to all of the terms before retreating to his room. He set the plate down on his desk along with a few schoolbooks and his camera. If he finished the film in the camera this weekend he could start developing on Monday. Mark mostly just wanted to go out that night, drive around and take some pictures. See a movie. Maybe talk to a few strangers.
But he ate the fruit from his mother and did his math homework first. It was nearly six when he finally prepared to leave, picking up his camera and taking a jacket. Mark turned up the radio in the car, banging the steering wheel in the wrong rhythm and singing along in a separate key. The only way to heal was to forget and the only way to recover was to ignore.
His social life was plentiful. Friends, acquaintances, band mates, girlfriends. Rivals, competition, groupies, fans. He was only 18 and already his personal connections alone held endless opportunity.
His parents were of the casual sort, and this pleased him. Since high school they had given him freedom and space, but were always hanging in the background ready to jump in and be concerned if need be.
He did well in school. His band had a following. There were whispers of big time gigs in the city. There was always talk of someone knowing someone who knew someone. Connections and possibilities.
Roger would have been the first to say he had everything. But he would have endlessly denied that he had any sort of problem. Even when he was faced with it head on in the mirror every morning.
With the friends came the freeloaders and the fakes. With the band came the pressure. With the girlfriends came insecurity.
With the talent came hours of dedication. With the grades came sleepless nights. With the big time came inadequacy.
And with all of his perfection came an irregular amount of dissatisfaction.
Safely tucked away from his social life, Roger liked to let down the exterior wall. He felt so exposed walking around another town or even New York City. He didn't have to smile, he didn't have to act. It was just him, taking a walk. He didn't have deadlines for school projects. He didn't have three new songs to learn by the weekend. He didn't have a new girl for the week to amuse or spend time with. He could just walk around with his hands in his pockets. He had his time to think, and he had his time to exist and only during these times could he accept that where he was wasn't where he wanted to be.
Roger used to imagine that he was just sacrificing for his own benefit. He gave up hours to practice because he wanted to be a musician. He did well in school so he would have the intellectual capability to write his lyrics and to live in the world. He kept his friends happy because they were supporting him. But it was the benefits of these sacrifices that were starting to drag him down.
With the social life came gigs. With the gigs came parties. With the after parties came nameless girls. With nameless girls came nameless drugs. With nameless drugs came moments of feeling absolutely wonderful.
And in those moments, Roger didn't really feel much of anything at all, let alone insecure or afraid. He just felt good. And that was what it came down to in the end.