[Author notes- thank you for all the reviews everyone. Once again I don't own emotion, I RENT! Sorry I couldn't resist. Rent does not belong to me, but the story I created after the fact does. Please review, give suggestions, etc.- Emily]
After Roger's outburst, everyone sat quietly waiting for someone to continue but each unsure of what to say. Maureen's eyes pleaded with Joanne to take control of the situation, but she couldn't allow herself to be tempted by the woman; it happened too many times before and she was strong enough this time. Finally Collins whispered, "You know if Mark was here, he would be standing by the door with his little camera pleading with us 'Come on guys-no fighting today-Chill' just like at Angel's funeral or when Benny and Roger got in a fist fight at Mimi's…but no one would hear him, no one ever heard him…"his voice faded away as a sob engulfed his body, "I can't believe he's gone…how could we have let this happen? We never even knew why…"
"Yes, well let's see if this thing can help any of us out." Joanne stated as she ripped the seal on the envelope before sliding its' contents out onto the desk. Quickly skimming through the pile, she noticed pictures of the friends from years past. The final in the pile was a picture of Roger and Mark taken the night she had first met them. Roger was playing his old fender, while it caught Mark filming Roger from atop a table at the Life Café. " Roger will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song. That doesn't remind us of Musetta's Waltz." She had observed the whole banter with a wry smile, when she was supposed to be packing up Maureen's equipment. Grabbing the first piece of paper on the pile she tried to push the memory and lump in her throat away, she began:
To My Friends: I know you all must be wondering what you are doing there together, but I guess it's my own cruel way of getting back at everyone. You all meant so much to me, please try to get through this day with as little confrontation as possible. I can imagine everyone sitting in their own separate corners, punching gloves ready to attack. If only I could be there to tape it, it'd be a classic in no time… We were always the friends that stood by one another, in our times of need despite all of our differences. Yet our differences widened over the past couple of years, and we all forgot about the friendship we once shared. We all managed to survive the death of April, Angel, and Mimi; but I can't help but wonder if you will survive mine. I know you all must be wondering why you did not know of my health problems, but that will be covered on the enclosed video. Along with the video, this envelope also contains a letter for each one of you and instructions of what should be done with my meager belongings. Some of what you may find may surprise you, but everything will be explained; understand it had to be this way. If you have already distributed my stuff, you can just disregard all this stuff but knowing Roger my door probably hasn't even been opened. Be forewarned of moldy teacups, stale crackers, and random clutter; I never said it was going to be easy for you to claim your prizes. Love always- Mark Cohen"
"God, he always made a joke out of everything didn't he?" Benny asked and he chuckled lightly.
Maureen glanced around the room at the slight smiles adorning each face and revealed, "Mark once said that people don't notice things are wrong if you use humor; that if you're laughing at something you miss the anguish that they are really feeling."
"That sounds like something Mark would say." Roger stated, trying to push all emotion from his voice. "Will this never stop? I lose everyone close to me; first my father, then April, Angel, Mimi, and now Mark. It just hurts too badly… I gotta go-" pushing himself off of his chair, he dashed over to the door only to be blocked by Collins.
"Sit your ass down
Roger. You can't run away from this
like everything else in your life. Why
are you so afraid to show emotion? It's
good to cry, man- shows that you're human." Collins had pulled Roger into a
hug, rocking him for several moments before leading him back to his chair.
"It hurts too much. I miss him so much. Why Mark?"
"I don't know. I honestly don't know. But we're all hurting, you have to see this; you may have been the closest to him but look at Benny. Did you ever imagine a day that you'd see Benjamin Coffin the III crying like a baby? Now then, do you think we can continue?"
"Yea…" he quietly stated.
"Well the next few things look like awards and scholarships of sorts. This one here reads as follows: The American Heart Association recognizes Mark Cohen for his Scholastic Achievement despite previous health problems he has endured. In recognition we hereby reward him $15,000 to attend the school of his choice.' Then it's signed and dated and all that stuff… I knew that Mark was extremely smart, but it explains how he paid to attend Brown."
"Yea, he didn't have to pay for a penny of school. Even with all his scholarships, he was given a monthly allowance through some foundation that basically paid for our pizza and partying throughout school." Benny recollected, thinking back on all the times they'd goof off by sending pizza or strippers to the homes of all their professors.
Joanne flipped through more paperwork before settling on a picture of three familiar faces. "Hey! Isn't this Mark?" she showed the picture around to verify before asking, "Look how pale he was; must have been around 11 or 12, but why does he have the oxygen thing on his nose? And why is he standing with Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas?" By now everyone was crowded around her desk, observing the picture with puzzlement.
"OH MY GOD! I can't believe…you have to hear this!" Maureen's voice had rose several decibels as she held a newspaper article up by her fingers. Drama, drama, drama…Joanne thought but what when Maureen continued she found herself in a state of shock. "Heart Transplant Recipient Struck By Car- A thirteen year old boy, Mark Cohen, of Scarsdale was struck by a car Thursday afternoon on the way home from school. Ambulances were immediately dispatched, and Cohen was rushed to Cedar Creek Hospital where he underwent emergency surgery and is currently in serious condition. Doctors remain optimistic, despite the fact that Cohen received a heart transplant 11 months ago. They hope that he will make a full recovery with little damage to his new heart. Immediately following the initial transplant, Cohen's body severely rejected the heart but was eventually stabilized through different medications. Donor family, Ralph and Cheryll Scott who lost their sixteen-year old daughter, Rebekkah, last year in an accident involving a drunk driver were present at the hospital and said, 'God did not take our Becca away, if this boy didn't need that heart. We're confident that he'll pull through this because god has a purpose for him.' See Accident on page A3 for continuation of the story."
Every single person in the room wore a completely shocked expression and the only words that could be heard was Benny muttering, "HOLY FUCK."
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