A/N: Seeing as I fail epically at updating on a regular basis (READ: Nothing new published since SEPTEMBER) I'm trying to make up for it by putting up a bunch of stuff at once. Forgive me? -Sheepish Grin-
Disclaimer: I don't own RENT.
People's paths continuously cross – they're like ribbons, intertwining and looping around each other. Some of them are so deeply intertwined that they've turned into a knot, while others barely touch. There's also the length that they're together; some have been connected for so long that they've almost fused together. And even though some only connect very briefly, they have the biggest impact of all. This is one such story.
. . .
Mark had always known Angel, in the same way he knew the clerks at the grocery store. Angel was just the baby-faced Latino on the corner; the one who drummed on the plastic buckets. Mark would smile at him as he came and went from the Loft. Occasionally, if he had money to spare, Mark would give him a few quarters. Once or twice, the filmmaker got some footage of the drummer, for whatever project he was working on at the time.
It got to the point where Mark could no longer remember a time without Angel. (Although, of course, Mark didn't know Angel's name.) And Mark would probably have never known it if Collins hadn't happened to meet Angel that fateful Christmas Eve of 1989. But Collins did meet Angel, thus letting Mark and Angel properly meet for the first time.
Mark wasn't one to "bond" immediately with people, but he felt a special connection to Angel from the beginning.
Maybe because she was just so sweet and cared so much for everyone, even the crabby old homeless people.
Maybe it was because she didn't mind when college students gawked at her, at let them take pictures with her.
Whatever it was, Mark felt closer to Angel quicker than he thought was possible. They broke into the Loft together, explored parts of the city hidden from tourists, and attended more of Maureen's protests than both of them cared to attend.
When Mark heard that Angel was in the hospital, it felt like something iron was clenching in his stomach.
And when Angel died, Mark could barely breathe. It felt like something had gone missing, and he couldn't find it again, no matter how hard he tried.
Angel's funeral was the worst part – having to actually face the fact that one of his best friends was gone, and another was about to leave – was almost too much for Mark to handle. After the funeral, when Roger left, Mark just sat in the center of the Loft trying to hold in his tears.
Throughout the next few months, Mark just kept going numbly trying to get by in the job he hated. And then one day he broke.
He'd forgotten to do what he loved.
He'd forgotten to smile at everyone.
Worst of all, he'd forgotten to love everyone with unconditional, unwavering gratitude and love. As Roger returned and things began to come together again, Mark made sure he always remembered Angel, all she stood for, and all she'd taught him.
Because…how could he forget?