AN- Well, this is my first RENT story I'm posting, though it certainly isn't the first one I've written. It is my first completed teen!RENT, though… So, I'll say that they're about high school-ish-age, maybe 11th/10th grade or so. This was actually written as for my English class/ a "contest" thingy, so… that's why there are the two American quotes that Roger and Maureen say. –giggles- So much fun… Please review!!
Disclaimer- Jonathan Larson owns Mark (not fair…), Roger (also not fair…), Maureen (eh, that's okay… kidding!), or RENT in general. I don't. The only thing I own is this plot, the 2-disc widescreen special edition of the movie, both the OBC and movie soudtracks of RENT, and fifteen gazillion notebooks… pfft…
"…And that's why we need to do this protest. I mean, all of those people without power! I wouldn't be able to live without power- how could I talk to you, or Roger, or-" I cut her off, rolling my eyes.
"Maureen." She stops mid-rant, pouting. "What does not being able to talk to us have to do with the people without power?"
"Why, the phones aren't working down there, of course!" I groan. "Don't give me that look, Marky. Your precious camera wouldn't work if the power was out, either."
"Okay, first of- don't call me Marky." She giggles, blushing slightly. " And second- my camera runs on batteries. Therefore, I don't need electricity to do my filming." A pause, then:
"Oh, well, whatever. I'm going to do the protest, and you're going to film, and Roger-"
"Refuses to help, or have anything to do with the protest at all." The mentioned-boy mutters as he walks up, lunch in hand, and I shoot him a grin.
"Unfortunately, Rog, you have no say in the matter- if I do it, you do it, and I have to, so you do, too." He blinks at me as he sits next to us, looking vaguely disinterested.
"Whatever, Mark." I snicker, and Maureen glares at both of us.
"Why don't you two ever take me seriously? I want to change the world, dang it!" She shouts, and we pause- before promptly laughing. "What? What? Stop laughing at me!" I gasp for breath, trying to stop, while Roger just laughs harder.
"Oh, come on, Mo- you can't change the world. You can only change yourself." Maureen frowns, and I glance at him, surprised.
"Deep. What bus-side advertisement did you get that off of?" He scowls at me.
"What do you mean? Don't believe I could come up with it myself?" I raise an eyebrow at him; his shoulders slump. "Beatrice Wood said it. She was an American artist." I snort, turning back to Maureen, who had been oddly quiet. She's still frowning down at her potato salad, picking at it absently.
"Maureen? You okay? Don't take what Roger said seriously- he's just sore that his band kicked him out."
"Hey! So not true! They just-"
"Never doubt that a small group of committed citizens can change the world." Maureen whispers, and Roger and I fall silent, exchanging a startled look. "Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." She glances up at us, her eyes blazing with defiance. "Spoken by Margaret Mead, American ant-thro-polo-gist." I find myself grinning.
"Do you mean anthropologist, Mo?" She nods, and I chuckle. "Very fitting, and very true. We'll help with the protest." She smiles tentatively, and Roger glances back and forth between us, before throwing up his hands and flopping backwards.
"I give up." We laugh.
AN- Ahaha… please review!
DECEMBER 24TH, 9 PM, EST- FROM HERE ON IN, I SHOOT WITHOUT A SCRIPT- SEE IF ANYTHING COMES OF IT.