A/N: This is my first RENT fiction and I hope to do justice to the amazing work of Larson. Hope it will be enjoyable for you all!
Disclaimer: I own nothing; The amazing Larson owns it all.
"Hey, Marky! Come over here!" Maureen shouted. Mark, who was working diligently on reloading his camera, looked up with a scowl. "Why?" he groaned. He wasn't in the mood to put up with her nagging and teasing; he wanted to work on his film.
"Just come here!" she whined. He groaned, mumbled something incoherently, and slowly sauntered over to her.
"What do you want, Mo?" he asked in an irritated tone. She stifled a laugh and pointed toward the ratty couch on the other side of the room. Perched awkwardly on the couch, Angel and Collins were committing a heated, yet sweet, make-out session. Cringing, Mark turned back toward Maureen and gave her his signature 'what the hell' glare.
She slapped his arm playfully and said, "you've gotta admit it's cute, pookie." She giggled and pulled him into the chair with her.
"I told you not to call me that," he growled. His attempt to frighten her failed. He never had been good at intimidating anyone; let alone his friends.
"Oh, don't be such a grouch, pookie!" she cooed. He rolled his eyes and stood up from her lap in the chair. Having lost her interest in pestering Mark, Maureen faced the couple on the couch and laughed again. She covered her mouth in an attempt to remain oblivious.
Hearing her poorly concealed laughter, Angel and Collins promptly drew away from each other and faced Maureen. "Are we bothering you, sweetie?" Angel asked politely. She had a sparkle of enthusiasm in her eyes. Collins just pouted innocently.
Failing to stifle her giggles, she simply said, "Oh no! I think it's adorable!" Unable to contain his urges, Collins whispered, "Come back, baby," and quickly pulled Angel back onto his lap. She squealed with delight and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Where were we, baby?" he crooned. "Here," she whispered as she pulled him into a delicate, yet passionate kiss.
Returning to his camera, Mark couldn't help himself. Picking up the camera, he snuck up to the preoccupied couple and began to film them; he left off the narration for fear of being caught. "This ought to be priceless!" he thought to himself. As he filmed from various angles, he silently cursed his camera for not being able to record sound; their lovey dovey comments between one another were simply hilarious.
While displaying a toothy grin, Mark mentally debated whether or not he would let them in on the fact that he was filming them; knowing that they were on 'candid camera' had always resulted in a few outrageously funny facial expressions. He decided against it when he noticed that his camera had stopped.
"Damn," he mumbled to himself. He intended to set it down for a moment while he grabbed a new reel of film, but being a klutz as usual, he ended up dropping the clunky camera onto his foot where it crashed noisily onto the floor.
"Shit!" he screamed, which resulted in several shocked stares in his direction.
Angel noticed the camera on the floor and wittily put two-and-two together.
"Were you filming us, Mark?" she asked with an incredulous look on her face.
"Uhh…" he began, "of course not, Angel. Why would I do that?" He giggled nervously.
Roger, appearing from the loft door, laughed mockingly. "Mark, you could very well be the worst liar in the state of New York. Hell, you're probably the worst liar in the world!" The group laughed riotously as Mark's face turned various shades of red.
As Collins stood up, he executed a typical tsk-tsk.
"What's wrong with you, boy?" he asked with a grin. "Just because we're so hot over here and the fact that you're jealous…" Mark cut him off.
"Jealous?!" he snorted, "you wish!"
Everyone could see through Mark's bravado as his face set in an oddly splotched scarlet.
"Calm down, man," Roger began, "you know we were just messing with you."
Mimi, having appeared from the fire escape, pounded loudly on the window pane. Turning his attention toward the loud banging, Roger walked over to let her in.
"Why the hell is the window locked?" she demanded angrily. Everybody knew it was her usual route into the loft, so the window was very rarely locked.
Roger accused Mark with a nonchalant hand gesture. Everyone could hear Mark growling under his breath.
"Aww, Marky, calm down baby," Maureen called, "you know we love you!" He just sighed and turned back to his camera.
From across the room, Joanne rolled her eyes.
Angel quickly bounced up from her seat and hugged Mimi.
"Hola, chica!" she greeted warmly.
"Hey, Angel!" she returned sweetly. It was always a plus to see her best friend after a long day of work. Just being around Angel lifted her spirits no matter how bad her day had been.
Angel was clad in her usual black wig, a sparkling blue tank top with a fuzzy black overcoat, and her white flower skirt. She was also wearing her favorite pink tights, but her stiletto heels were lying forgotten on the floor. She looked stunning, and Mimi certainly noticed.
"Oh, chica, is this the outfit you bought with Collins today?" she asked excitedly.
Giggling, Angel nodded. "Well, only half of it," she said. "I was too tired to try and find a pair of tights to match the new skirt." Collins chuckled.
"I thought it matched these just fine, Angelcake." He ran his hand along her thigh and she giggled playfully.
"You have no sense of fashion, Thomas," she acknowledged his clothing, "and this is a perfect example!"
Unable to hold back, Collins and Angel began to chuckle along with the rest of the Bohemians.
Collins smiled warmly at his beautiful Latino. "She couldn't be more perfect" he thought to himself. An angel indeed.
…………………………………………………………..
After they had said their goodbyes, Collins and Angel left the loft with their hands entwined. It was about 2 a.m. and they really needed to rest up for the next day. It wasn't a long walk to their apartment; it was only a few blocks away, but walking the New York streets at night always sent waves of unease through them.
Angel shuddered a bit from the frigid air. "It's cold."
Collins pulled her against his side as they continued to walk. "I'll keep you warm, Angelcake." He grinned and she giggled sweetly. "I love you, honey," she said as he pulled her towards him for a kiss.
They stopped walking, if only for a moment, to look lovingly into each other's eyes when they heard a frightening cackle from behind them. Quickly pulling out of their embrace, they faced a brawny drunkard who was glaring at them with a malicious grin.
"Well, well, well," he sneered. "Look what I've found!" He raised his oversized arm and pointed a finger towards them.
"A couple of fucking fags!" He slurred on his speech, which made him all the more frightening. He reeked of alcohol and, to their disgust, urine.
"Look, man, we don't want any trouble." Collins stammered to get the words out clearly as he pulled Angel tightly against his body. Angel was whimpering in fear.
"It doesn't matter what you want, fag. All that matters is what you deserve!" He quickly pulled a switchblade from his back pocket and held it up; he was glaring intently at Angel. Her eyes widened in terror and Collins pulled her behind himself to act as a barricade.
"Please," she whimpered, "please leave us alone." She was crying now and the man curled his lips up into a vicious grin. Collins was outraged at this atrocity's pleasure in threatening Angel…his angel.
"Back off, man!" he snarled protectively. He wouldn't let this punk get what he wanted. He would make this son of a bitch pay.
Without warning, the man sprung forward and slashed at Collins.
Instinctively moving away from the attack, Collins targeted and kicked a heavy blow to the man's stomach. It barely fazed the attacker; however, it left Collins with a shattered ankle.
"Damn!" he howled as he grabbed for his broken ankle. He hissed in pain when all of a sudden, a high-pitched squeal of agony erupted from behind him.
Horrified, he turned to discover the most devastating thing he could ever imagine; Angel was clutching her mid-section with the most wretched look of pain etched onto her face. She crumpled down onto the cold cement and became motionless. Collins could plainly see a pool of blood forming around her still form; she had been stabbed multiple times in the chest.
The man had a black eye and a profusely bleeding nose; the work of Angel's stiletto heels. He smirked proudly at his work and spat directly onto Angel's face.
"That'll teach your kind," he said.
He quickly bounded off, leaving a broken man behind who cradled his dying lover in his arms.
Review? Please? I need to know if I should continue with this. If anybody seems OOC, let me know! If I'm making grammatical errors, please, let me know! If something is downright foul, please give me a heads-up so I can fix it! I feel like I'm switching topics too quickly and that the scenes are a bit too short…feedback appreciated! Thanks! hugs and Angel kisses