Yes, I KNOW I haven't updated in forever. I am sorry, my loyal fan following… (well, uh… about that…) Anyway. Here it is. I don't own RENT.

A phone call for Mark? From a GIRL?

I slammed the delete button with my fist.

This was SO not cool. I am Maureen, the flamboyant, flirtatious drama queen. Mark is the shy, loyal, level-headed boyfriend. He is the yin to my yang.

He is NOT allowed to do this to me! From that girl's message, it sounded like this had been going on for a while. What was her name? Christine? Cynthia? I didn't remember. And I didn't care.

I ran into my room, ready to cry. Instead, I slept until Mark came home.

6 pm. I woke up to the slam of a door. It was Mark.

"God dammit! Stupid weather can never stay nice here for more than an hour! What the fuck?"

"So, Marky," I spat venomously, entering stage right from the bedroom in my silky nightgown, "Where were you? What were you doing? Or rather, who?"

"What? I've been filming in the park. I left you a note," Mark explained.

"Sure you were. I just got a very interesting phone call," I remarked.

"Huh? From who?" asked Mark, obviously bewildered. Damn, he was a good actor.

"Some girl called for you. Cynthia or something. So there, Marky. It's out in the open, I know what you've been up to. Okay? I can handle it- I'll move out right away," I cried, getting way too emotional.

"Maureen, wait, there's something you don't-" Mark started, but I was too quick for him.

"I don't want to hear it. I'll move out, your REAL girlfriend can have my place. For now, I'm going to bed!" I stormed out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind me as hard as I could.

I woke up at around midnight. I was hungry. Knowing Mark and Collins were in the living room, I slipped silently past them into the kitchen. Grabbing a box of cereal, I sat down on the floor. I opened the fridge, and seeing no fat-free milk, I did without it. I ate a few handfuls of Cocoa Puffs right out of the box. I caught a glimpse of myself in the oven's reflection. Hideous! My mascara was dripping down my face and my lipstick was smudged. I ran into the bathroom to clean myself up. Flicking on the switch, I turned to the sink. Above it, on the mirror, was a note, in smudged magenta lipstick.

April's color.

It was very shaky handwriting, so I could barely read it. Definitely April's, though. A chill went through me as I read the words:

Roger-

We've got AIDS.

And nothing more.

I turned around to the bathtub and fainted.

There, lying in a pool of blood, was April.

When I recovered my senses, it was 5 am. No one was awake yet, but Collins would get up soon. I had to think fast. I had to do SOMETHING. My mind raced, but I couldn't think of anything. So I did the only thing I could think of. I went into the living room.

"Collins?" I whispered urgently. "Collins. Wake up."

"Mrphrphrph," Collins mumbled sleepily. I slapped him lightly on the cheeks.

"Come on, Collins. This is important." Slowly, he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"What, Maureen? It's really early, you know that?"

"Yeah," I told him, "but this… well… I…"

"WHAT?" snapped Collins groggily.

"Shh! You'd better come see for yourself." I helped him stand up, and led him into the bathroom.

"Oh… my…" Collins was at a loss for words.

Shit.

We decided to wait until morning to tell the others. I wanted to wake them up right away, but that would be cruel to their sleeping habits. So, at 8 am sharp-

"Roger!" I hissed. "Get up!"

Roger rolled over.

"NOW. You need to see this, believe me."

"Why should I believe you?" he muttered. "You come in my room in the wee hours of the morning, shouting for me to wake up. EXACTLY how I want to start my day."

"Oh, dear." I called for reinforcements. Collins walked through the door into Roger's room. "Collins, tell him what happened. Make him get up, and show him. I'll deal with Mark." I left the room to wake Mark up.

"Mark."

"Not again. I just woke up. I told you, I can-"

"No, not about that. Get up, now," I commanded in my bitch voice. Mark did as he was told, slowly. In the meantime, I saw Collins lead Roger out of his room and into the bathroom.

Three seconds later, I heard a long-winded bloody murder scream.

Mark rushed to the bathroom. I followed, slowly.

Roger rushed out of the bathroom, crying, and locked himself in his room.

Collins broke the silence. "You know, I really hate to make matters worse, but- I got a job offer. And I'm taking it."

"That's great, Collins," I said dully, depressed for April.

"No, it's not. Not now. I was going to tell you yesterday, but… well, you know. But, um, it's teaching. At MIT. I'm leaving for Massachusetts next week."

Before I knew it, Collins had left. Benny moved back in for about two weeks. He had apparently broken up with the fifteen-year-old. Maybe she'd gone back to middle school- or whatever. Soon he left, too; he'd bought a new house. It was just Mark and me who were left. Well, and Roger. But he didn't count; he was constantly holed up in his room. Mark was his little maid; he paid more attention to Roger than he did to me! He would bring Roger food (which he wouldn't eat), talk to him (he wouldn't talk), and give him his AZT (an AIDS drug, which he wouldn't take). He was ignoring me completely. I began to turn more and more to Joanne, and found myself struggling not to be totally in love with her. After a while, I began to resent coming home. Sure, Mark had finally explained to me that Cindy was his sister, but the fact that he may as well have been cheating on me with Roger didn't soothe my nerves. I looked to Joanne for comfort, and pulled away from Mark (towards Joanne) just as much as he pulled away from me (towards Roger). We began the slow, painful process of growing apart.

I had a lot of loose ends to tie up, now I have basically finished the prequel. By Chapter 12, we will be in RENT. By around Chapter 30-40, if my attention span allows me to write that much, we will be at the end of RENT.

Yay! Well, no, but at least now I know where we're headed.